Sign of the Lion
by HyperCaz
Summary: AU BOOK 6 On Harry's sixteenth birthday, things begin to get a little strange. Of course, if you think suddenly gaining new powers, a lionshaped mark appearing on your arm, and having a Dark Lord taking new steps to come after you is normal, well...
1. Sweet Sixteen, The Coming of Age

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me . . .except a few rubber bands and a paperclip. BTW, thx hids for beta reading for me!  
  
Chpater One: Sweet Sixteen, the Coming of Age  
  
~~~  
  
Once again the four will rise  
  
Inside those of flesh and blood  
  
To work together, to maintain the peace  
  
Or fight their raging battles  
  
On this mortal playground.  
  
The eagle will fly in great peril  
  
The badger will crawl only little  
  
The serpent will choose to stem or create  
  
But these against the lion  
  
Are petty under rulers.  
  
At the sixteenth turn of life  
  
Receive all that which is due  
  
Yet needed are the guardians  
  
Those who are the wise  
  
Attempt to sew together  
  
The four that again shall rise.  
  
~~~  
  
As predicted by Cassandra Trelawney, the most celebrated Seer of all time.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry Potter, to put it mildly, was having a bad summer holiday, sitting glumly in his bedroom, too bothered to set foot outside. He was contenting himself with writing on parchment aimlessly, trying to ignore the stinging in his scar. His jet-black hair lazily hung anywhere it could get away with it, but never enough to cover his green eyes. Harry had often been told how much he looked like his father, but he hadn't had any remarks of the sort lately.  
  
He spent his time avoiding his cousin Dudley, who seemed to have taken an interest in boxing up anyone he could find who wasn't his parents. But all Harry had to do to set him off was walk up and hiss "Dementor" into his ear and watch the reaction with guilty satisfaction.  
  
The weather lately had been dismal for summer - contradicting last year's drought - pouring fury down onto the boxy houses lining the cramped cluster of residents. So far, the rain had not let up, running down the gutters and bogging muddy lawns. The only consolation to this was watching Mrs Figg strolling past none too conspicuously, holding a wind swept umbrella above her head as she went. Sometimes she would rip a flower off the flowerbed as she passed.  
  
Harry glumly realised he had been writing to his godfather again, even though there was no way Sirius Black would ever get them. Throwing out the letter (which only had 'Dear Sirius' scrawled across the top) he began looking for something else to occupy him. Reaching for one of his spell books, he kept an eye on Hedwig who had begun twittering by the windowsill.  
  
"I wish this weather would let up," He told her gloomily, picking at a stray feather, "I doubt I'll get any letters in this storm."  
  
He waved at the window to emphasize his point. Suddenly, he felt his scar shoot from a twinge to a full blasted boil in a second. Giving something of a yell, Harry bit down hard on his lip until it bled. He saw Hedwig nestling her head into her wing, unconcerned. Eyes watering, he waited for the pain to subside. When it did, he let out a breath.  
  
He sat there for a moment, relieved, dove for his parchment, then paused. Who could he write to? Dumbledore? Ron or Hermione? Frustrated, he threw his books and parchment into a corner of his room. What he really needed was to send a letter to Sirius, but that was no possibility in that any more. Before he knew what he was doing, he was throwing various books at the wall. Harry didn't particularly care if the Dursleys woke up.  
  
Scowling after having run out of ammo, he kicked the end of his bed savagely and instantly regretted this. Pain shot up his toes, causing him to swear. This drove him to sit down again and continue with the numerous essays he had to finish. He snuck a glance at the clock - eleven in the evening. Perhaps tomorrow the weather would let up . . .  
  
Harry glanced outside. The storm was already letting up, only distant rumbles of thunder and the occasional streak of lighting shooting across the sky. Hedwig fluttered over and nibbled his ear hopefully. The wizard shooed her aside,  
  
"I haven't got any letters for you to deliver."  
  
The owl seemed unperturbed and flew over to the window. She pecked at the window latch without accomplishing anything. Harry, exasperated, went over and opened the window as quietly as he could. Hedwig jumped aside and in flew two owls that Harry had failed to notice before. Ruffled and drenched, a small twittering one (who Harry identified as Pig, Ron's owl) seemed weighed down by more than usual. The other was a slightly battered Hogwarts owl.  
  
"You're earlier than usual," Harry told them, but then laughed at himself. Being a couple of hours earlier actually made him much happier.  
  
He tore open the thick letter with the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on the back in red wax.  
  
Dear Mr Potter,  
  
Please note that the new school year will begin on September  
  
the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross  
  
Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.  
  
Your OWL results, advised classes and a list of books  
  
for next year are enclosed.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Professor M. McGonagall  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
Tossing this and the book list aside, Harry unfolded the third and last piece of parchment. Apprehensively, it took him a few moments to start reading.  
  
Astronomy - Poor  
  
Care of Magical Creatures - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Charms - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Divination - Dreadful  
  
Defence Against the Dark Arts - Outstanding  
  
History of Magic - Acceptable  
  
Herbology - Acceptable  
  
Potions - Outstanding  
  
Transfiguration - Exceeds Expectations  
  
O.W.Ls in total - 7 (AN: No clue *how* OWLs work)  
  
Harry set this aside, a little surprised. He had done much better than he thought he would - well, maybe he'd been expecting 'Outstanding' in DADA but *Potions*? He scanned over his advised classes and smiled triumphantly over never having to do Divination, Astronomy and History of Magic ever again. He had scored the NEWT classes for Potions, DADA, Transfiguration and Charms. He still had Herbology and Care of Magical creatures, coupled with the basic classes for his NEWT ones.  
  
Grinning broadly now, he opened Ron's letter with gusto. It was brief, including birthday wishes and a reasonably cheap mini Foe Glass. Ron commented that it would do well to replace the Sneakoscope. Hermione's letter had arrived with Pig as well and included an ominous book reading in gold lettering: NEWT Study Guide. The little flashing sticker taped across one corner guaranteed good results.  
  
He didn't notice the third owl until it gave him a sharp peck.  
  
"OW!" Harry exclaimed crossly, taking off the largish parcel it had been carrying.  
  
The parcel contained only a few things from the Weasleys and a couple of other people Harry knew. He stole a look at the time - midnight. Putting his letters aside (taking a rather long time to find a suitable spot for his OWL results), he got into bed and put his glasses on the bedside table next to where he had placed the mini Foe Glass. Smiling up at his dark ceiling, Harry fell into, for once, a dreamless sleep.  
  
~~~  
  
When Harry first woke, he just lay in the increasing light, looking up at the ceiling. He examined the cracks in the white paint for a moment, then contented himself with looking at the finer parts of the cheap light shade hanging off his light. He reached up to his nose to fiddle with his glasses, but could not find the frames. Frowning, he used his other hand to grope for his glasses.  
  
And they were sitting innocently on his bedside table. Harry raised them to his face and immediately his vision went out of focus. Confused, he took them away and blinked. He set them aside, confused, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood up, he felt a pounding in his ears and had to reach for his bedpost to steady himself.  
  
Harry rubbed his forehead feeling just a little light headed. The moment passed and he threw off his creased shirt into a corner, treading lightly past littered piles of his possessions. He looked down at his jeans, trying to decide if they were still wearable, then realised the only went down to the top of his ankles.  
  
"What the . . .?" He muttered and looked down. He noticed that he had muscled out a little on the stomach. Harry quickly looked at his arms and whistled appreciatively. He had light toned muscles and couldn't quite believe he hadn't noticed before.  
  
Downstairs came the usually below from Uncle Vernon which could be loosely translated as a cave man's request for raw meat for breakfast. Harry looked around quickly and yanked on a large black shirt, hurrying out the door, darting down the stairs. He paused at the kitchen doorway, surveying his last remaining relatives with something of a smirk on his face.  
  
The Dursleys had mostly left him alone. Harry supposed this was due to the fact they were scared witless of what a certain crazy looking wizard in a bowler's hat would do to them. He cracked a grin and walked in,  
  
"Good morning."  
  
Aunt Petunia turned around and shrieked, dropping an expensive stack of china plates, which had been waiting in the dishwasher from the previous night. A little startled at this reaction, Harry blinked at her for a moment. Before he could say anything, Uncle Vernon came striding in,  
  
"Boy! Heat up the . . .what happened to you?"  
  
"What?" Harry demanded anxiously.  
  
He looked quickly into the mirror just visible through the doorway into the living room and his jaw slackened. He could hardly recognise the person looking back at him without the glasses. Wordlessly, he walked closer to his reflection and stared at it, dumbstruck.  
  
Harry was jolted from this when the front door opened and hit the wall with a bang. Squeezing past the frame was Dudley, a massive arm around a flighty girl with set cheekbones and silver rimmed glasses. While he had become something of a boxer, Dudley still resembled something extremely huge from the marine wild life park. He powered into the living room, his chins quivering expectantly. The girl flicked her long gold blonde hair over one shoulder and shot a look at the ceiling.  
  
Harry, still frozen in place, was knocked aside by Uncle Vernon who promptly made small talk. Dudley shot a Harry a nasty look, saying in a loud voice,  
  
"This is Judith Brookedale. Her father is on the water board *and* she's my girlfriend."  
  
Harry sniggered, but desisted with a look from his uncle who was battling to keep both an angry and welcoming expression on his large purple face. This directed Judith's attention over at the black haired wizard who instantly found himself going red. She gave him a lusty wink and settled on the couch next to Dudley, keeping her eyes on Harry.  
  
"Boy!" Uncle Vernon hissed as he passed Harry, "Offer them breakfast!"  
  
Doggedly, the boy walked over and asked politely,  
  
"Would you like any breakfast, Judith?"  
  
She began twisting her locks through her fingers, smiling coyly. When she spoke, it wasn't the bookworm voice Harry had expected - instead it was with a slur,  
  
"I can think of something I want more than breakfast."  
  
Harry tugged at his collar uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if it was just him, but the room seemed very hot. Dudley was scowling, shooting his cousin a death glare. Without another word, Harry made his escape and told Aunt Petunia tonelessly that Judith did want breakfast. He was soon put to work on bringing the eggs to boil and the bread to toast.  
  
A few minutes later, Harry turned around and set the breakfast down on the table, sitting down on the edge next to Judith (Dudley still took up an entire side by himself). Uncle Vernon had retreated behind a newspaper, barking questions across to the visitor about her father and what sort of car he drove. Aunt Petunia was sitting with her hands resting on the table, not eating anything.  
  
Harry wanted to go upstairs as quickly as possible, but the narrowed eyes from his aunt told him he'd have to stay. He looked sideways and noticed the sly smile spreading across Judith's face. Harry inched away; she put her hand on his thigh. Dudley reached for the innocent tomato sauce bottle, glaring at his cousin almost angrily and at the same time trying to show off.  
  
Judith gave Dudley an agitated look and said loudly,  
  
"Oh, I haven't got any tomato sauce. Would someone pour it for me?"  
  
Dudley immediately reached his pudgy hand across and squirted some onto her eggs. Something twitched on her face and she pushed her plate away, shouting hotly,  
  
"No! I want your cousin to do it!"  
  
Harry jumped involuntarily.  
  
"Oh, and sweetie," Judith added as an after thought, "What's your name?"  
  
Uncle Vernon had begun shredding the paper, lines creasing up on his forehead. The tell tale vein on his temple began to pulse furiously. He growled,  
  
"He doesn't have a name."  
  
Judith giggled,  
  
"Of course he does, don't you, spunk?"  
  
Harry sat there in a kind of horrified trance. Just this morning he'd realised he'd grown up and now Judith! For a moment, he wondered what his godfather would have thought, but then discarded this. His heart began to race - Uncle Vernon was going to throw him into the cupboard for sure! And it wasn't even his fault. The bottle of tomato sauce quite suddenly exploded.  
  
"Go to your room!" Bellowed Uncle Vernon angrily, "And stay there!"  
  
The neatly set out china plate collection against the wall fell into a broken pile on the floor. Harry had jumped to his feet, hands clenched by his sides. He could hear his heart beat pound in his ears, could feel his anger inside unleashing. And all the fury, despair and guilt he had felt about Sirius' death exploded outwardly.  
  
By now, there was no longer any breakfast on the table. It had either found a snug place on the wall or on the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon was shouting furiously, Aunt Petunia white at seeing her spotless kitchen turned into a multi coloured mess and Dudley just sat there, his mouth hanging open. In the middle of the orbiting chaos stood the wizard, who said with barely kept calm,  
  
"My name is Harry."  
  
Judith grabbed a pen and quickly wrote her number across his palm, dodging the flying food.  
  
"Call me sometime, stud," She winked and sauntered out the door. Immediately, everything fell to the floor with a crash or a splatter. Harry waited a moment, then raced upstairs to his bedroom. He sat on his bed, breathing very hard and waited for the dooming arrival of a Ministry owl.  
  
~~~  
  
AN: Review and I'll update! *winks* My beta and I had a whole argument over the OWL thing, but we're all good! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. 


	2. Unleashed

Disclaimer: Would I be writing on this site if owned this???  
  
AN: No ditzy girl! She annoyed me too. . .  
  
Chapter Two: Unleashed  
  
~~~  
  
Harry had waited an hour, but still not notification arrived. He pressed his forehead to his window, looking down at the road below, frowning. Maybe Dumbledore had stepped in or perhaps a new law had been passed. But surely students would be sent an owl about that wouldn't they?  
  
Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw an owl swoop low over the roofs a couple of kilometres away. Now that he saw it, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to open whatever ill tidings the owl brought him. He nervously fingered his unneeded glasses in his hands just for comfort, though he seriously considered throwing them out. He doubted Fudge would let him off for this one, Boy Who Lived or not.  
  
He gritted his teeth and opened the window, not enjoying the sun one bit. Harry reached for his wand, keeping his eyes on the owl as it came closer. It was a snowy, with brown spots dotted down its back and had a black splotch splayed across its head. Harry hesitantly pulled off the thick letter and opened it slowly, shooting a look at Hedwig,  
  
"I should have known this was going to happen some time or another."  
  
The owl clicked her beak reprovingly. Harry set aside his glasses and recognised Hermione's curly writing, with all the evidence of being written at a slow, relaxed pace. He shot the delivery owl a confused expression then scanned down the page.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I'll have this sent to Ron so that he can pass it on. I can't  
  
tell you how thrilled I am with my O.W.L. results! My  
  
parents treated me to a holiday trip in Switzerland at a  
  
ski resort. It's fascinating learning about the witches  
  
and wizards in the area, even though they think I'm  
  
a Muggle!  
  
Mind me for prying, but how are you holding up?  
  
I'll try and send you another letter soon, because  
  
all I have time for is my O.W.L. results!  
  
Arithmancy - Outstanding  
  
Astronomy - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding  
  
Charms - Outstanding  
  
Defence Against the Dark Arts - Outstanding  
  
History of Magic - Outstanding  
  
Herbology - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Potions - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Runes - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Transfiguration - Outstanding  
  
O.W.Ls in total - 10  
  
See you hopefully soon,  
  
Hermione  
  
Harry smiled, unsurprised and habitually reached up to finger his glasses, which weren't there. He found another letter and wondered with cold dread if this was the one from Ron telling Harry that he wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts. Harry was again startled to find that it didn't mention once anything about the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Harry, mate,  
  
Hermione topped the year - surprised? I'm not. Ten  
  
O.W.Ls! Yech, mum keeps carrying on how I could  
  
have done better, why I couldn't be more like Percy  
  
etc etc. I'm sorry this didn't come to you on your  
  
birthday but mum snuck off with my Hogwarts letter.  
  
Mum tells me you're still not a prefect! If you want,  
  
I'll complain to Dumbledore. He's gotta let you have  
  
The badge!  
  
Astronomy - Poor  
  
Care of Magical Creatures - Acceptable  
  
Charms - Acceptable  
  
Divination - Dreadful  
  
Defence Against the Dark Arts - Outstanding  
  
History of Magic - Acceptable  
  
Herbology - Acceptable  
  
Potions - Poor  
  
Transfiguration - Acceptable  
  
O.W.Ls in total - 6  
  
I made it into the N.E.W.T DADA class! I can't  
  
see how us three won't be in the same class.  
  
See you round,  
  
Ron  
  
(PS: Mum keeps hinting you might get to stay soon  
  
but she won't give specifics.)  
  
Abandoning these on his desk, Harry sat on his bed, forehead pressed to his knees. Why hadn't the Ministry sent an owl? Much as he liked hearing from his friends, he couldn't displace the cold feeling of dread. Spying one of his unfinished letters to Sirius, Harry felt his stomach drop several more notches. He had no one he could really talk to about the crazy stuff that had been happening. Some one who wouldn't be anxious or want to look it up in a book. . .  
  
"Boy!" Demanded a voice from behind the door, a nasty and satisfied Uncle Vernon, "Have your lot sent a letter expelling you yet?"  
  
Harry heard laughter and wondered where it was coming from, if not his uncle. He realised he himself was laughing with relief. He yelled at the door,  
  
"No! Why would they? I didn't use my wand."  
  
As absurd as that sounded (considering Dobby never used a wand to cause chaos with a pudding), Harry decided to adopt it as an explanation. Cheerfully, he scrunched up the latest letter to Sirius and threw it into a waste basket. Uncle Vernon made a disappointed grunt, but followed up with his usual bellow,  
  
"You're to stay in there all day! You hear me?"  
  
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, grinning.  
  
The heavy tread thundering back down the stairs told him that his uncle had gone. Harry rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up with one elbow, looking out the window. He sighed and flattened onto his back, closing his eyes. Maybe he'd get some extra sleep. . .  
  
~~~  
  
Harry woke up and immediately his hand went for his classes. He smiled, shook his head and checked the digital read out unaided. It was nearly midday! As he got up, the Quidditch book Ron had given him, which had been balanced precariously on the end, slipped off with a bang. Harry cursed and angrily looked down the book.  
  
It lifted slowly, teasingly off the floor. He gaped at it, but no, he must have been imagining things. He shook his head and looked over at Hedwig who stared beadily back. Suddenly, something solid smacked into Harry's hand, flew up and collided with the side of his head.  
  
"Ouch!" Exclaimed Harry crossly, rubbing his head.  
  
He looked around for the guilty part and spied the book sitting placidly on his desk. He frowned and waggled his fingers at it. The book lifted and waggled back at him. Harry just stared at it, amazed. He wasn't even using his wand! Curious, he held out his hand to the book and declared,  
  
"Accio book!"  
  
This time he caught it.  
  
"Hedwig, did you see that?" Harry demanded, knowing how ridiculous he must look, "Tell me you saw that."  
  
The owl inclined her head at him briefly, a gesture which her owner took as a nod just to spare his sanity. Harry gently let go of the book and watched it hover in front his eyes, cautiously flicking a hand toward the desk. The book complied and landed softly next to his school books. Harry rubbed his eyes for a moment, then looked hard at the book, voicing,  
  
"Weird."  
  
He sighed, deciding that he had flipped probably because of Sirius' death. That would be it. A fresh wave of fury flooded him and his vision grew cloudy. He felt wetness on his cheeks and, angry, he battered the tears away. Harry suddenly found himself cradling the mirror his godfather had given him, bent over it in misery. The cracks in it criss-crossed across the fractured image of Harry's face. Harry was startled at how quickly he'd dropped into this state.  
  
He traced a crack which spanned the length of the small mirror with his finger and watched with amazement as it repaired under his touch. He bit his lip until it bled furiously, blood pooling into a drop and sliding down his chin. Something strange was happening to him and Harry didn't like it. Occasionally he could hold his emotions in, particularly grief, but it was always unleashed in his nightmares. . .  
  
Speaking of which, why wasn't he having the nightmares anymore? The ones where Sirius' face was frozen into a horrified expression, pleading Harry to help him, demanding why Harry went off to the Department of Mysteries. The last one he'd had was two nights before his birthday, he recalled. And all of this started on his birthday. . .Harry frowned, continuing to cradle the mirror even though it was now repaired.  
  
"This is insane," He muttered then gently set the mirror on his bed. Questions sprung up in his mind. Why was this happening? First the glasses and physical changes now the wandless magic. Whatever it was, it had now become unleashed.  
  
Harry sat down dazedly at his desk and looked down at a blank piece of parchment. Exactly who was he going to write to about it? He supposed Hermione would want to research it and Ron would immediately mention it to his father, then all of the Weasleys (even Percy who had grudgingly moved back home) would know. He wasn't ready for more attention from them - he had enough with Sirius' death. Then who - Lupin? No. . .  
  
He turned to Hedwig,  
  
"What am I going to do? There's no one left!"  
  
But I'm here, the owl seemed to say with wide eyed expression she offered. Harry looked down and found he'd written two words, ones he never continued if he wrote them. Dear Sirius. There was nothing else for it so Harry bolding charged on to the next line.  
  
He kept the letter chatty, mentioning the strange happenings and his O.W.L results, while mentioning nothing about Sirius' death. Harry even boldly penned the line: "By the way, you forgot to send my birthday present". He had at first felt it shameful to write such a thing because of the obvious reason. But then, Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to remain in grief.  
  
Well that wasn't too hard, he thought gloomily and pocketed the letter. It was a pity that there was no where to send the letter, but then, who would he send it to? Harry looked over at Hedwig, getting an idea. He let her hop onto his arm and tied the letter securely.  
  
"Hey, girl," He said softly, "I want you to take this somewhere - anywhere - a place where no one will find it. Maybe out a sea or something, okay?"  
  
The owl hooted an affirmative, spread her wings and soared out the window. Harry slumped onto his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Bemusedly, he flicked his hand at the window, wanting it to shut. However, the window stayed stubbornly open. He tried again with the same result and scowled. A fluke then, nothing to worry about.  
  
A crash from downstairs had him sitting up straight suddenly. Harry groaned inwardly, making a morbid guess that the Ministry had come to snap his wand. Aunt Petunia's shriek sounded frightened and by the sound of Dudley's feet running past, the Ministry people had no doubt brought out their wands. Something clicked for Harry.  
  
He wasn't going to give up his wand! He'd be damned before he let them snap it. He angrily grabbed the stick in question and clenched it in his shaking hands. Harry didn't dare perform the unlocking charm, but his body cried out for him to do something. Before he knew what was happening, a strange whiteness clouded his vision and he found himself on the other side of the door.  
  
Willing to bet he had just Apparated, Harry kicked the door angrily, muttering,  
  
"This weird stuff stops now!"  
  
He took the stairs at a run and burst into the living room from where he could hear heated voices. Harry blinked. He saw Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks standing in the middle of the room and each bearing pained expressions. Mr and Mrs Dursley and the uninvited guests all turned to look at Harry.  
  
"Uh, hi," Harry managed, "Does this mean I'm going to the Weasleys or headquarters?" 


	3. Sirius' Will

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
Another chapter - and so fast!  
  
AN: Foodiholic, sorry about the O.W.L. results. Hermione will get O in Potions when I get around to changing it.  
  
lyssanne/white owl: All will be revealed. . .  
  
Chapter Three: Sirius' Will  
  
~~~  
  
"Hello, Harry," Lupin gave him a small smile, "Can you get your things packed?"  
  
Uncle Vernon's face had quickly turned a deeper shade of purple and he demanded,  
  
"How did you get out of that room, boy?"  
  
Harry hesitated, twirling his wand through rigid fingers. He didn't know how, but he suspected he had Apparated without much effort. What was he thinking? He didn't even know how Apparating worked! Quickly, he answered,  
  
"Do you even bother to lock that door properly?"  
  
Then Harry bolted upstairs and this time the door allowed him to pass. He threw open his trunk and began tossing in various items he came across. When he came across the mirror, he made sure to wrap it up in his pillow covering and placed it gently inside. Hedwig was sitting on his bed already, and such on short notice.  
  
Harry grabbed his Firebolt and went as fast as he could out the door, dragging his trunk with him. It seemed lighter than usual so Harry ran back into his room and scoured the corners for anything he'd left behind. Frowning, he held onto Hedwig's cage with one hand, sticking the tail of the broom through one of the bars and hauled the trunk downstairs with the other, bumping on each step and bouncing, painfully taking Harry's wrist with it each time.  
  
Panting only slightly, he made it into the living room and straightened up. Obviously something had transpired in his absence because Aunt Petunia was backed into one corner, meekly looking at Tonk's wand, which seemed to enjoy being tossed from one hand to the other. Harry smiled at Lupin, but found it was almost false. He felt a sudden surge of hatred swell up in his guts. That man, he thought angrily, that man tried to stop me from saving Sirius.  
  
Surprised, he masked this by walking the length of the living room and stopping just feet from the last remaining true friend of his father,  
  
"So are we going to the Burrow this time, Professor Lupin?"  
  
"I'm afraid not, Harry," Something shifted in the werewolf's eyes, "Dumbledore has some, uh, business you need to sort out at you-know-where."  
  
Harry's anger floated up to the surface and he set his lips firmly. Why should he go? Did Dumbledore want him to come to terms with Sirius' death? Well he had come to terms with it! The hand holding his wand trembled slightly. Tonks looked at him anxiously, eyebrows dipped in concern. The eyebrows in question were bushier than they had been minutes before.  
  
"I'm not going," Harry said quietly.  
  
"What?"  
  
Tonks was startled - she'd been expecting something else, obviously. She looked pointedly at Lupin, who shifted uncomfortably and asked,  
  
"Why not, Harry?"  
  
The anger broke through the surface of Harry's blank mask and he found his wand raised in front of him, his voice pulsing,  
  
"Why do you think I don't want to go? Huh? He died and there's nothing I can do about it! I tried to save him, didn't I, Professor Lupin? But noooo, he was beyond the veil. I've come to terms with it, I may not like it, but, hey, c'est la vie! Dumbledore has NO IDEA! He doesn't know how much this hurts! He can't possibly know!"  
  
The Dursleys looked taken aback, not used to hearing Harry shout so vehemently. Lupin's eyes narrowed and he grabbed Harry on the shoulders decidedly ungentle,  
  
"Sirius died for you! We're trying to understand Harry, we really are, but you're not making things any easier. Can't you see we're here to help you?"  
  
Harry went still with rage, his green eyes burning into Lupin's. Tonks was saying something, but neither could hear it. Something passed between them and Harry realised he wasn't the only one who was hurting. Lupin suddenly drew the teen to him and wrapped his arms around Harry. Shaken, Uncle Vernon's eyes were bugging out of his head. Aunt Petunia looked like a goldfish out of water.  
  
Harry felt tears on his face, tasting salt on his lips. He could feel Lupin's arms around him, could feel the pain that they both shared. Time seemed forgotten, nibbled away at the edges and shattered down the middle. The clock ticked slower than ever, the minute hand resting on twelve o'clock.  
  
"You're all I've got left," Harry muttered desperately.  
  
Lupin sighed and got the teen to look up at him,  
  
"That's not true, Harry. You've got the Weasleys, you've got Hermione and, yes, Dumbledore."  
  
They both then seemed to remember there were others in the room. Mrs Dursley's face had regained some of its colour and she added surprisingly,  
  
"You have us."  
  
Tonks, Lupin, Harry and Uncle Vernon all looked at her as if she had gone mad. The flesh tightened on her cheek bones, but she appeared unwavering. Harry managed a smile at her, startled though he was. Lupin took the initiative and got a firm grip on the trunk and Hedwig in her cage,  
  
"Come on, Harry. We're taking the Knight Bus."  
  
"Bye," The last Potter said to his aunt and uncle, hesitantly, "See you next summer."  
  
Tonks put her hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him towards the door. The drenched soil ran off water into the gutters of Privet Drive noisily, but not loud enough to drown out the calls of birds, signalling the end of the rain. Tonks raised her wand and with a bang, the dubious bus arrived. Harry gave it a resigned look,  
  
"Do I have to go?"  
  
"I'll buy you hot chocolate," Lupin offered lightly.  
  
"Good enough for me."  
  
Then all three of them stepped on one after the other. Ernie, the driver, beamed at Harry and opened his mouth to start a barrage of questions but Lupin shot him a silencing look, merely saying,  
  
"Windill Avenue, London."  
  
The money handed over, he guided Harry to a seat by the window and waved over the conductor for some hot chocolate. Lupin grabbed a fistful of Shunpike's violent orange cloak,  
  
"The boy's not to be disturbed, you hear?"  
  
Stan looked pained, but left them alone with steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Tonks suddenly sprouted black biker chick's hair artistically striped pink. She winked at Harry who smiled weakly. Then everyone on board was thrown back into - or from - their seats as the Knight Bus took off.  
  
Lupin turned to Harry,  
  
"Finally I get to ask you - did you get contacts?"  
  
~~~  
  
Windill Avenue was a narrow road branching off a main route, quiet and lined with haphazard hedges and pathways. Even thought Harry knew Muggles could not hear the Knight Bus, he winced as a huge bang signalled its departure. He kept close to Lupin, offering to carry something but was turned down firmly. They walked onto an off branching road where Tonks bent down and pulled up a Frisbee that had a huge bite mark out of it.  
  
"Here, grab hold," She held it out to Harry, "Remus and I will be along as soon as you get there. It's a Portkey."  
  
Harry barely noticed the leap, but he sure noticed landing hard on his backside in the entrance parlour of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. With a pop, Tonks and Lupin appeared, each balancing Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage. Harry sighed and got to his feet, blinking his eyes rapidly. The house was a dim as he remembered, but now something more oppressive hung on it. It was missing the key thing and Harry knew what it was.  
  
"Good, you're here," Said a quiet amused voice from the doorway leading down to the kitchen. Albus Dumbledore stood there, eyes barely twinkling behind his half moon spectacles.  
  
"Hello Professor Dumbledore," Harry said cautiously, "What business do I need to sort out?"  
  
The wizard straightened a little and the teen noticed how frail Dumbledore looked. The older smiled tightly,  
  
"This way, Harry."  
  
Lupin squeezed his shoulder and made his way upstairs with Tonks. Harry followed Dumbledore past the kitchen and into a small study that he was sure he hadn't seen before. It was dark, black curtains drawn over the grimy window and only lit by a single candelabra sitting on a sideboard. The desk in the middle had lost its tarnish, chipped off savagely in areas. On it lay some pieces of parchment, ink lines scribbled over it.  
  
With a sickening lurch, Harry recognised Sirius' handwriting. Dumbledore seated himself behind the desk and gestured for his student to do the same. Harry had a feeling he knew what sort of business was in stall for him now. The professor shuffled the parchment and read from the top,  
  
"This is the last will and testimony of Sirius Orion Black, this fifth day of February, 1996." Harry closed his eyes to stop the tears falling, listening to Dumbledore's voice, "It is stated that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore shall handle the affairs of the will. As witnessed by Remus Jake Lupin and Nymphadora Celia Tonks. To Harry James Potter I leave the contents of my Gringotts vault, number 712, the asset of number twelve Grimmauld Place and my only vehicle, the Flymot Series X-12."  
  
Dumbledore set the parchment down and looked levelly across at Harry who now opened his eyes and stared back hollowly. Silence dominated the dark room, a clock on a mantelpiece over a blocked fireplace ticking loudly. Finally, Dumbledore spoke up again,  
  
"Sirius allowed the Order of the Phoenix to use this house as headquarters. It is understood if you do not wish to do so, but it would be most appreciated if you did."  
  
"You can still use it, sir," Harry's eyes hardened, "Voldemort must pay for what he has done."  
  
Again, silence. The professor studied him intently, then smiled,  
  
"You have grown over the summer and I see you have opted to wear contact lenses. Miss Granger and Mr Weasley are most keen to see you, I believe. However, I thought it wise they do not disturb you until tomorrow. You can have Sirius' old room - Remus Lupin will show you where to go. I might suggest you take a look at the Flymot, a spectacular design if I may say so."  
  
Harry mustered up a smile in return,  
  
"Thanks, Professor. Uh - does this mean I can stay here, never return to the Dursleys?"  
  
Dumbledore appeared mischievous all of a sudden, something Harry was not used to seeing on that ancient face. The older pressed his fingers together,  
  
"Unfortunately, you must remain with your relatives until graduation. However, visits to his house are not prohibited. And Harry - a service will be held for Sirius in a week's time. I advise you come more properly to terms with events of late."  
  
Harry sighed and he stood up, walking towards the door. He paused at the door way, debating whether or not to tell Dumbledore about the wandless magic, but then the moment was gone. Harry forced himself to keep a casual walk as he left the study.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry entered the kitchen, shuffling his feet. There was no one in there, strangely, and the premises seemed oppressive without Mrs Weasley bustling about. He sat down at the wooden table and reached for the Daily Prophet, finding no real articles of interest. The newspaper was tossed aside, forgotten. Harry rested his chin in his hands and looked at the surprisingly clean wall.  
  
He felt angry at the injustice of it all. He'd wanted Sirius' name cleared, had high hopes for it, even though the Ministry would never have allowed such a pardon. Harry looked down the table and spied an upturned goblet. He set down one of his hands on the table and mentally ordered the goblet to come to his hand. Nothing happened, but he wasn't expecting anything to. The wandless magic was nothing to worry about - a fluke.  
  
Then what can you say about Apparating? Said a nasty voice in the back of his head.  
  
"Shut up," Harry muttered and looked away.  
  
He was surprised to feel the dusty goblet smack into his palm and bounced off the table. Glaring at it, he held out his hand once more and waited. Very slowly, it rose and jiggled a little. Harry made a short beckoning gesture with his fingers and this time it came like a faithful pet to a master. He set it down and stared fixedly at it. That wasn't a fluke and couldn't possibly be a figment of his imagination.  
  
He jumped when he heard voices in the kitchen and instinctively knocked the goblet off the table. Harry winced at the sound it made, spinning towards the rapidly approaching footsteps. He smiled sheepishly when Remus Lupin appeared at the door way, slightly out of breath.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry said before the question was asked, "I was just thinking."  
  
Lupin bent down and picked up the goblet, his face unreadable,  
  
"Do you always think this loud?"  
  
Harry snorted, getting up from the table. He looked over at Lupin, trying to see if the werewolf was being serious or not. He gave up on this and said hesitantly,  
  
"Professor Lupin, sir, I was wondering. . .what a Flymot Series X-12 was."  
  
The other smiled distantly,  
  
"Ah, yes, I remember. Sirius loved that motorcycle - do you want to see it?"  
  
"Sure!" Harry's eyes lit up and he followed Lupin out excitedly.  
  
The house didn't have a garage (what medieval manor would?) but it had a stone room with open windows where brooms and flying carpets would have been stored. Harry didn't recall this room either, but decided not to ask. The thing that captivated his interest was the black motorbike perched into the middle of the room. He approached it slowly and rested his hand on the seat.  
  
So this was that flying motorcycle from his dreams long ago, the one that Hagrid had taken him to the Dursleys on. . .All else was forgotten as Harry explored the vehicle with his fingers and eyes. He could almost see the times it had gone through with its rider.  
  
"Do you want lessons?"  
  
Startled, Harry turned to look at Lupin. He'd forgotten the man was there. He smiled back at Sirius' - his - motorcycle,  
  
"Yeah, I want lessons. Do you think we could go back down to the kitchen? I'm starved."  
  
Lupin's face lightened somewhat and he turned to go down the narrow stairwell leading up to the room. Harry bit his lip, shot the motorbike one last look and hurried forward.  
  
"Professor Lupin? Can I. . .can I call you Moony?"  
  
Lupin looked over his shoulder at the teen,  
  
"Of course, Harry." 


	4. Sign of the Lion

Disclaimer: read previous  
  
AN: I did not make a mistake with Sirius' will. Harry's fifth year was from 1995-1996 therefore it is possible for the will to have been written in February.  
  
Foodiholic: I can neither confirm nor deny your question. Hehe  
  
Chapter Four: Sign of the Lion  
  
~~~  
  
Harry woke to see high beams on the ceiling, cobwebs hiding in the corners of the chipped tarnished wood. For a moment, he wondered if he was in the cupboard again, then he remembered the happenings of the day before. He'd sent letters off to Ron and Hermione and had finally managed to start the homework he had neglected, with the help of Remus Lupin.  
  
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking over at the analogue clock hung on the wall. It was coming towards eight o'clock, definitely time for some breakfast. Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and evaluated the room he was in. He hadn't had much time the night before, having been slightly run down from numerous things.  
  
It was as large as a master bedroom and had an ensuite opposite the walk in wardrobe. At the moment, moths fluttered among the collapsed clothes racks and all of his clothes lay crumpled up in his trunk. Harry found a decent outfit and threw it into the bathroom. Yawning, he stepped in after his clothes and selected the safest looking towel, laying it over the basin.  
  
He unbuttoned his pyjama top, throwing it aside next to his clothes and looked in the dusty mirror at himself. He instinctively reached up to flatten his fringe, then paused. Harry felt his stomach plummet and wrenched around his left arm, heart pounding. At first he thought for one wild moment that the Dark Mark was on his arm, then he realised it was a different style.  
  
It was faint, the outline having the appearance of a faded wash off tattoo. It was an array of oranges and yellow, making the shape of a lion on the prowl, a snarl on the lion's jaw. Relief flooded Harry but was soon replaced by puzzlement. First his glasses, weird happenings and now this! He sighed and rested on his elbows against the basin.  
  
Everything was so confusing! Rubbing his forehead, he turned the hot water handle and stood back away from the shower. Stepping under the hot stream, Harry immediately reached for the soap and started scrubbing at the mark on his arm furiously.  
  
~~~  
  
Hair dripping, Harry made his way down the stairs with the towel over his arm. He wasn't sure if Kreacher was around, but it was obvious the house- elf hadn't done any tasks for a decade or more. He stepped into the kitchen and covered a yawn. He didn't notice the others in the room until Mrs Weasley gave a shriek and dashed straight at him.  
  
"It's so nice to see you, Harry dear," Mrs Weasley's eyes were moistening.  
  
Harry smiled wanly and managed to push her off, looking past to Ron who wore a pained expression. Ron rolled his eyes,  
  
"Mum's been doing that to everyone here."  
  
Harry laughed and sat down at the table next to Ron,  
  
"Sorry I haven't sent you any owls lately, mate. I've been a bit. . .busy."  
  
"Speaking of owls. . ." Ron lowered his voice, "What did you get?"  
  
Harry reached for the toast stack in the middle of the table and selected a piece, deliberately taking a long time to butter it. He set it down then looked up at his friend,  
  
"Seven O.W.Ls and guess what? I got an Outstanding in Potions."  
  
Ron shot him a disbelieving look, trying to read Harry's expression. Harry smirked and crunched into his toast. Mrs Weasley took the damp towel off him,  
  
"Bovid will handle this."  
  
"Bovid?" Harry turned to Ron, questioning, "What happened to Kreacher?"  
  
Ron casually took a piece of toast for himself,  
  
"You know how Kreacher always wanted to be on a plaque like the rest of them? Mad-Eye Moody arranged that quite nicely. . ."  
  
Harry gave him a sideways glance,  
  
"Better not let Hermione hear you talking like that."  
  
Ron's ears went red even though there was nothing insulting in what Harry had said. He stabbed the piece of toast a little too vigorously than needed. Harry smiled to himself. For a moment, there was silence, then Ron put his knife down hard. Catching the confused frown he was given, Ron shrugged and reached across for another piece of toast. The first piece was dripping butter into his lap.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow,  
  
"Ron, you know that hot butter and clothes just don't go."  
  
"Oh for. . ." Ron angrily wiped at his jeans with a cloth as dirty as Kreacher's loin cloth. He turned to Harry, "She didn't tell you?"  
  
"Uh. . .who tell me what?"  
  
Ron didn't answer, even at the perplexed expression on his friend's face. Harry sighed and pushed his plate away. As he did so, he noticed Ron tearing at his toast with black enthusiasm. Slowly, Harry twitched a finger in the direction of the knife. It shot out of Ron's hand and landed on the floor with a loud clatter.  
  
Ron made sure his plate followed it, speaking slowly as if it hurt,  
  
"Viktor. . .Krum. She's going out with. . .Krum."  
  
"No problem with that," Harry began evasively, then stopped at the expression on Ron's face, "Oh."  
  
Harry hadn't seen Ron this defeated since the Yule Ball and managed to conceal his smile. Ron hammered a fist on the table,  
  
"The nerve of him! Hermione has no sense, brains, but no sense."  
  
Harry had had enough. He stood up suddenly, knocking his empty goblet to the ground and spitted Ron with a hard glare,  
  
"Ron, she can do what she wants. It's not like you're her Secret Keeper or something."  
  
"Well I should be!" Ron said fiercely, "How can you let her do this? You're not even upset about Sirius' death!"  
  
Then Ron knew he'd gone too far. Harry's eyes narrowed and he felt the anger which had been dormant rise up inside him. He felt himself shaking with barely suppressed rage and let loose on Ron,  
  
"Just because I don't look it doesn't mean I'm not upset! Do you know how hard it is for me? I lost my parents first and then the last person, the only person who was dear to me! You wouldn't understand - you've still got your family, you've got everything! You have to realise Ron that not everyone revolves around you!"  
  
He spun on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. Harry didn't trust himself enough to stay in the room; he might have even gone for Ron. Clenching his fist, he tried not to visualise it slamming into Ron's face. He climbed the stairs without seeing them and threw open the door to his room, the one Sirius had once stayed in.  
  
Harry furiously picked up a book and threw it, hearing the satisfying thump it made. Before long, he was flicking his hand at whatever else he could find and hurling it in the book's wake. He stopped finally, breathing hard. Wearily, he sank into the mattress, groaning.  
  
Hedwig hooted at him concernedly from the top of the wardrobe but made no attempts to swoop down. The knock at the door was inevitable, as was Mrs Weasley peering in,  
  
"Harry, dear, are you alright?"  
  
"Yes, Mrs Weasley," He answered automatically.  
  
"Can I get you anything?"  
  
"No, Mrs Weasley."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"NO!" Harry yelled at her, frustrated. Immediately, he felt a surge of guilt at the hurt look on her face then added quickly, "I'm sorry. I'm just not. . .you know."  
  
Mrs Weasley smiled and nodded understandingly. Her eyes scanned over the pile of items that lined the wall, but she dismissed this in the next moment. She opened the door fully,  
  
"Don't worry about the mess, dear, Bovid will clean it up. Can you get your book list? I thought you could do with coming to Diagon Alley with Ron and me."  
  
Harry walked over to his upended trunk and pulled out his crumpled Hogwarts letter. He turned back to Mrs Weasley, walking out the door to her. She gave his shoulder a squeeze briefly before half-leading him down the stairs. Ron was waiting at the bottom, his ears still flaming and his eyes lowered on the floor. Harry opened his mouth to apologise, but Mrs Weasley shook her head at him.  
  
She stepped towards the open fireplace in a room just off the entrance and held out a small pot of Floo powder,  
  
"We want to end up at Diagon Alley and make sure you say it clearly - we don't want a repeat of last time."  
  
Harry grinned, despite how he was feeling. He took a handful, stepped into the dark fireplace and threw it down. He cried,  
  
"Diagon Alley!"  
  
And was soon spinning dizzily through the Floo network.  
  
~~~  
  
Coughing and spluttering, Harry sat up on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron and rolled away from the fireplace, being almost flattened by Ron who followed. Jumping to his feet, Harry offered a hand to Ron who reluctantly took it and straightened up. Mrs Weasley stumbled a little on her landing, but remained upright. She dusted herself off and waved her wand at the boys. She pocketed it once she was sure not soot remained.  
  
They made a quick stop at Gringotts where Harry noticed that, if possible, the amount of coins in his vault had increased greatly. He bit his lip when he saw how little was left in the Weasleys' vault, but refrained from comment, offer or statement. After leaving the bank, Harry blinked rapidly in the sunlight but managed to follow Mrs Weasley down to Flourish and Blotts.  
  
He pulled out his list of books and managed to get Advanced and basic books for his classes. He noted with dismay that the advanced Potions text was several times thicker than the previous one and wondered how he was supposed to carry it around with his other Potions books. Harry set his books heavily on the counter and started pulling out various coins.  
  
His eyes slid over the rack behind the counter and caught on a book which face was pointing towards him. Drawn artistically on it was a lion on the prowl. . .Harry's mouth went dry. A wizard stepped in its way and began adding up quickly on an abacus the amount required. Harry asked suddenly,  
  
"That book with the lion on it - how much?"  
  
"You don't want that," The wizard chortled, "It's too expensive for what it is - worthless junk."  
  
Without saying anything, Harry handed over some more money. The wizard sighed and added the book to the pile between them,  
  
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Mr Potter."  
  
Harry picked up the stack of books and waited by the door for Ron who looked extremely forlorn. Looking quickly around, Harry turned to Ron and was about to mention the lion and the strange things that had been happening when, a moment or so later, Mrs Weasley came over swinging a bag which was filled with second hand books. Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably.  
  
"Is that all?" She asked briskly, "I want to drop in on Fred and George."  
  
They made their way through the packed alley to find a crowd outside the Weasley Wizard Wheezes. The people surround the front window were chatting animatedly and pointing at various items on display. Mrs Weasley cut through them and pushed open the door, a bell sounding overhead. It was just as chaotic inside, with only Fred behind the counter and no sign on George.  
  
Seeing his mother, Fred waved and turned back to a customer with a Hogwarts robe above the knees. Mrs Weasley pushed through the cluttered shop and demanded,  
  
"Where's George?"  
  
"He'll be back," Fred replied dismissively, "Mum do you mind handing over that abacus? Thanks."  
  
Harry looked around the shop curiously, seeing a large stand for Canary Creams being swamped by a large croup of chattering teenagers. Fred caught a look of Harry and grinned mischievously. He shouted over the milling crowd,  
  
"Special, one-time-only chance to meet Harry Potter! Free autographs with every purchase. . ."  
  
Harry glared him, uselessly flattening his fringe. Fred grabbed a quill and a stack of blank parchment, sliding it over with a wink. Already dogged lines were forming near the counter, customers hands loaded with pranks. Ron was standing off to the side, inspecting a tray of what looked like slices of innocent fudge and didn't look like any help against the onslaught of eager shoppers.  
  
On the fourth signature, Harry saw out of the corner of his eye Mrs Weasley berating Fred who merely shrugged. Busy noticing this, he didn't realise who the next person in line was. He began signing the parchment and looked up,  
  
"Hey, you didn't buy anything. . ."  
  
He stopped. Hermione Granger grinned down at him. Her usual bushy hair was sleeked back behind her ears and pulled into a bun. Ron was gaping over at her, choking on the fudge he had taken off the shelf. Harry looked over at Ron,  
  
"You'd better swallow that."  
  
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked Ron concernedly.  
  
Ron's eyes were watering and he ducked behind a table displaying Extendable Ears. Harry smirked and slid the signed autograph across to Hermione,  
  
"So. You and Krum."  
  
"Yes, about that," Hermione paused as she looked over at Ron who was bright red in the face, "It's just that - "  
  
Whatever it was, Harry didn't get to hear because at that moment, the screaming started.  
  
AN: No, not the evil cliffe! ;) 


	5. Wandless but not Powerless

Disclaimer: Um, own?  
  
AN: Sorry about the pause in the update  
  
Chapter Five: Wandless but not Powerless  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione's face went white,  
  
"What was that?"  
  
Harry was already on his feet and pushing through a panicked crowd to the door. He groped in his pocket for his wand and restrained himself from cursing. He'd left it back at headquarters. He flattened against the wall as those in the shop began to trample each other and add to the din from outside. Harry waited a moment then charged through the door.  
  
At first he saw only students and their parents scrambling around like trapped Skrewts, then the masked Death Eaters came into view. Harry could feel his anger coming to surface again and he made no attempts to stem it. With a strangled yell, he threw himself onto the Death Eater with a mask shaped into the face of a vixen. Surprised, the attacked toppled over onto the ground, Harry's leap taking him further.  
  
Dizzy and watching the world spin before his eyes, he rolled onto his back to see the Death Eater looming over him. The vixen mask was mocking him as the wand came up in a steady movement. Without thinking, Harry pointed at her and shouted the Disarming spell. The Death Eater was once again knocked off her feet, her wand soaring into his hand.  
  
"Stupefy!" He cried without even raising the wand.  
  
Harry turned and saw Fred and Ron exiting the shop with their wands raised. Ron's hair was a violent shade of green, his expression somewhat sour. Hermione followed them, frantically searching for her wand and keenly surveying the chaos in front of her. Harry ran over to them and forced the wand into her hands. Fred stopped a passing wizard he knew, asking urgently,  
  
"Have you seen George?"  
  
"Aye, I have," The wizard replied, "Last down Knockturn Alley where all this began."  
  
He hurried off without another word. Harry felt cold all of a sudden, saying quietly,  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
Ron looked shaken but determined. Hermione bit her lip,  
  
"Harry, I don't think it wise to go looking for trouble."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry said casually, "Trouble finds me."  
  
He, Ron and Fred began making their way down Diagon Alley towards the turn off. Hermione stood still for a moment then sighed in frustration, hurrying after them worriedly. There were signs of several curses through the narrow street, windows broken and Healers already bending over patients. Harry didn't pause at this scene, charging boldly into the turn off for Knockturn Alley.  
  
The first thing that struck him was the darkness, how it closed in from all sides. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he could make out several dark shapes ahead. From behind him he heard,  
  
"Lumos!"  
  
Ron drew up beside him, wand held out front, eyes frantically searching the surroundings for George. The shadows in the alley seemed to move in several directions, Harry realising with a lurch that they consisted of people in Death Eater robes hiding their faces behind masks.  
  
"Look," Cawed one, "The children wish to challenge us."  
  
Harry forced himself to remain composed as he noticed George lying on the ground nearby. His breaths came uneven, but his eyes were open and fixed on Fred and Ron. Harry again wished he had his wand, but decided that it wouldn't be much more help if he had it anyway. He kept his voice even,  
  
"Give him to us."  
  
The answer was a chorus of soft laughter, turning Harry's stomach. He fought the urge to double over, noting slight movement from Fred out of the corner of his eye. Fred's wand arm shook a moment, then he brought it up and cried out a curse.  
  
"Fred, no!" Harry heard himself shout then threw himself in the path of one of the Death Eater's Cruciatus Curses. Trying to ignore the stabbing pains, he rolled over and heard footsteps race past his face. Shooting through his chest was the pain of the curse and he wasn't sure if he was imagining the cross fire overhead.  
  
Using the wall as support, he got steadily to his feet and looked back around. Obviously some of the Order had arrived and were trying to clear the entire area surrounding Diagon Alley of Death Eaters. Breathing slowly, Harry looked around the dim passageway and saw George propped up against the filthy bricks. Harry bent over his knees for a moment then began making his way over to where George was.  
  
"You alright?" Harry asked breathlessly.  
  
George made a noncommittal nod, then his eyes widened. Spinning, Harry caught a jinx again in the chest, but it was not the Cruciatus. As his legs started to twitch involuntarily, he gritted his teeth, trying to wrench out of the jinx but ended up stumbling into George. Swimming above him dizzily was the Death Eater, standing far enough away not to be hit with Harry's flailing legs.  
  
The Death Eater sounded almost bored,  
  
"Here before me is the famous Harry Potter. I almost expected more of a challenge from you. . ."  
  
Harry flushed, feeling defeated, but he suddenly got to his feet, all effects of the spell gone. Smiling grimly at the look of disbelief his opponent sported, he held out his hand and formed it into a fist. The other was blasted backwards into the opposing side of the passageway. Shaking, he then stood over the Death Eater,  
  
"There's your challenge. Pity you won't be going off to tell your master. . .otherwise I might have sent my best wishes."  
  
He pointed his finger at her and watched almost casually as bright scarlet flames engulfed the screaming Death Eater. It only seemed to strike him when he fell forward onto his knees in the smoking ashes. Harry choked in horror and scuttled away. He hoped against hope that no one had seen it, please, no one! With relief he noted that George's eyes were closed - he must have passed out. Harry sighed, rocking back on his heels.  
  
"Harry?" Asked a nervous voice.  
  
He jumped to his feet and spun around guiltily, heart pounding. Hermione was standing barely metres away, her eyes opened wide in terror. Far beyond her were the others, but they hadn't noticed. She stepped forward cautiously, almost timidly.  
  
"Hermione - wait - listen!" Harry could hear his ears thudding, "I can't explain it - it started happening on my birthday. Just don't tell anyone; I'll tell Ron later, just keep it to yourself."  
  
Hermione waited a moment, then nodded mutely. From behind her dashed Ron, who was out of breath,  
  
"I don't know how mum's going to let us off with this one."  
  
Fred, who was at his shoulder, looked down at his twin in dismay,  
  
"She's going to kill us."  
  
~~~  
  
"What were you thinking?" Shrieked Mrs Weasley, shopping bags swinging from one arm, "You could have been killed! And what was George doing in Knockturn Alley?"  
  
She was beside herself with relief, having seen George into the care of a Mediwizard. Fred shifted under his mother's furious gaze a little,  
  
"He was only getting some ingredients."  
  
Mrs Weasley looked fit to burst so Ron interjected in their defense,  
  
"They had George mum! We had to save him."  
  
Off to the side, Harry watched with a slight smile. The Mediwizard who was checking him over was very shy in talking to him, but didn't hide her amazement that he wasn't in poorer shape. Hermione had a cut on her cheek and seemed more worried about Ron than herself. Harry grinned at this and finally managed to make his way over to the Weasleys. Mrs Weasley enveloped him in a fierce hug and drew back, her eyes shining.  
  
"I was so worried!" She whispered fondly, "Are you alright, Harry, dear?"  
  
Harry nodded slowly,  
  
"I will be."  
  
Over her shoulder he saw Hermione giving him a reproaching look before turning back to Ron. Mrs Weasley drew away and hurried off to where Lupin and Tonks were talking quietly outside the ransacked Quality Quidditch Supplies. Both looked grim, not to mention sporting several scrapes. Harry leant against the wall nearby, listening carefully.  
  
"Does Dumbledore know what happened?" Mrs Weasley asked quietly.  
  
Lupin grimaced either from pain or annoyance,  
  
"There was an attack on Azkaban, this was just a diversion. Several servants of Voldemort escaped. You'll have to tell them, Molly, they'll find out anyway."  
  
Harry coughed loudly and all three looked at him. He shrugged innocently, smiling bravely. Tonks beamed at him, and then scrunched her face up. A moment later, her hair went jet black and her eyes green. Now with a messy fringe, she winked and turned back to discussion, quieter so that Harry couldn't hear. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Why hadn't he had any pain in his scar?  
  
It had been since before his birthday when he'd had the last nightmare about Sirius or Voldemort. Biting his lip, Harry wondered if he should tell someone other than Ron and Hermione. Seeing wizards and witches scurrying by with worried expressions on their faces reminded him that the second war had only just started. A war only he could end, if Voldemort didn't kill him first. . .  
  
He felt his stomach plummet even more - something else to tell his two best friends about. He wasn't sure he should, but even so. . .he felt they deserved an explanation or two. That much at least.  
  
~~~  
  
Once things had settled down a bit more a few days later, Harry decided to talk with Ron and Hermione. They came up into his room, each a little apprehensive. He outlined to them what Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy, to which Hermione looked extremely worried.  
  
"But, Harry," She said anxiously, "That means either you kill him or he'll. . ."  
  
She trailed off, letting the matter go. Ron frowned pensively and declared,  
  
"He'll have to go through us first."  
  
Hermione looked terrified, her lip trembling,  
  
"Ron! Don't talk that way."  
  
Though Harry admired Ron's resolve, he didn't quite like dragging them into this. They were taking it only slightly better than he had thought they would but, then, how do you take information like that? Hedwig broke up the moment with her soft hoots, demanding owl treats. Harry retrieved some and waited until she was perched on his shoulder before giving over the treats. Ron yawned loudly and stretched back lazily.  
  
"Mate," He said at last, "Hermione said there was something else you wanted to talk about."  
  
Harry's mouth twitched into a smile and he looked over Ron's shoulder at a passively hovering book. Hermione couldn't help but grin a little as the book made slow progress toward Ron who gave them a quizzical expression,  
  
"What? I don't think there's anything funny. . ."  
  
The book drifted around and in front of Ron who noticed it suddenly. He gave a shout and toppled over backwards. Harry doubled over with laughter didn't even need to make a gesture so that the seat was upright and his friend sitting in it. Ron didn't look at all amused.  
  
"Sorry," Harry apologized sincerely, holding out his palm and collecting the book.  
  
Ron stared at it, agape,  
  
"Was that. . .wandless magic?"  
  
Hermione removed the hand she'd used to hide her grin, turning hopefully to Harry,  
  
"You did say you'd inform us."  
  
Harry knitted his eyebrows thoughtfully for a moment, wondering where to begin. After a moment his face cleared,  
  
"I suppose it all began on my birthday. I suddenly didn't need my glasses and I think I grew over night. Then I started doing things without wand, but I didn't get a letter from the Ministry or anything. I even managed to Apparate once but as to why, I have no idea."  
  
"You should tell Dumbledore," Hermione suggested firmly, "He'll know more regarding to it."  
  
Harry shook his head in response,  
  
"I don't want to concern him with any more. There's one more thing. . .I haven't had any dreams lately."  
  
Hermione tapped her lips with a finger for a moment, clearly not wanting to be disturbed. Ron thumped him on the shoulder,  
  
"That's good isn't it? You-Know-Who hasn't been into your head lately."  
  
Hermione didn't at all view it this way. Instead, she looked even more worried than before,  
  
"Or maybe he's been able to keep his motives hidden from Harry now that he knows about the connection."  
  
"But that makes no sense!" Ron cut in, "He should still use it to trick Harry - no offence, mate."  
  
Harry watched Hedwig take off around the room in a graceful swoop. He shook his head,  
  
"No, Ron, it makes perfect sense."  
  
And for the remainder of that afternoon, they sat in silence. 


	6. Returning

Heaven's Reaper: As the O.W.L. grading system isn't exactly available to us, I don't think it matters how the scoring goes.  
  
Siobhan: This chapter dedicated to you, always demanding "update soon!"  
  
Disclaimer: Oh how I wish it was mine and if it was, Sirius would be. . .  
  
Chapter Six: Returning  
  
~~~  
  
The morning of September the first was so quiet in the Order headquarters that Harry almost didn't wake up in time. He hurriedly wrestled the lid closed on his trunk and stuffed Hedwig's cage under his arm, the owl twittering with annoyance. He noticed with considerable distress that the lion outline on his upper left arm was still darkening. In the light of the Weasleys' brief visit (during which Ginny, having been made a prefect, showed off her new Cleansweep model), he'd forgotten all about it.  
  
Sighing, Harry glanced around quickly before levitating the trunk and jumping down the stairs two at a time. Leaving both luggage and cage by the front door, he skidded into the kitchen and went about setting out some sort of edible breakfast. Cramming in the last crumbs, he dashed back to the front door. Harry reached to open to door, not patient enough to wait around.  
  
"Harry - wait," Remus Lupin was pulling on a coat and looking quite haggard, coming up behind, "We're taking a Portkey from Windill Avenue. Keep your wand handy."  
  
Harry snorted, thinking he didn't particularly need a wand. Lupin, mistaking this as directed at the precaution, frowned over at the younger who easily pushed the door open while balancing trunk and cage perfectly. Immediately as they got off the porch, the entire house vanished. Harry followed Lupin without any trouble and after a while said,  
  
"It's kind of strange to think that place is mine now."  
  
"Not until you're seventeen," Corrected Lupin  
  
Harry smiled a little,  
  
"Not too far away is it, Moony? Do you think I'll be allowed into the Order?"  
  
The other did not reply and Harry took this as a no, deciding to let the matter drop. The hedges of Windill Avenue were soon in sight, still the sorry sight they had been when last seen. Thrown casually to one side was an old lady's parasol, riddled with all things unpleasant.  
  
"I swear," Harry said fervently, "They think of weirder Portkeys every time."  
  
Grabbing hold of the Portkey, he felt the jerk behind his navel and landed unceremoniously on his backside on Platform 9 ¾. He picked himself up and shifted his weight so that he didn't go careening back onto the ground. Lupin's hand on his elbow steered him towards one of the doors of the train. Steam billowed in front of them for a moment then cleared, revealing Ron and Ginny standing at the entry.  
  
Ginny was beaming, a Prefect badge glinting on her new Hogwarts robes which were a little too long. Harry grinned at the pair of them and hoisted up his trunk with an anxious Hedwig balanced on top. He turned back to Lupin,  
  
"I'll be alright from here. Tell Tonks I said goodbye."  
  
Lupin stepped back away from the train,  
  
"Will do, Harry."  
  
The next moment he had Apparated so Harry jumped up into the train and kicked his trunk a little way down the corridor. He flattened against the wall as two energetic first years ran past, waving their new wands. Whoever came into their path wasn't going to look very pretty, judging by the sparks beginning to shoot out of the thin pieces of wood.  
  
"I'll grab us a compartment," He yelled over at Ron who nodded, "See you in a while."  
  
Harry lugged his trunk and cage, starting to look for an empty compartment. Busy scanning each compartment quickly, he was startled when the door of one slid open and he was pulled inside by an eager Neville Longbottom whose Mimbulus mimbletonia had changed into a neon blue. By the looks of the messy compartment, Neville had been wrestling his trunk close.  
  
Harry shoved his luggage into a storage rack and found a seat,  
  
"Back again, I guess. Nice colour - suits it, Neville."  
  
"Thanks Harry," Neville held out the quivering mass, "Would you mind holding it for a moment."  
  
This was exactly what Harry didn't want to do, but he put on a brave smile and collected the Mimbulus mimbletonia into his hands. Neville managed to clamp down his gaping trunk and belt it up tightly. Breathing slightly hard, the other boy turned to Harry and collected the blob,  
  
"Had a good summer?"  
  
Harry was about to respond when the door was slid open so hard it bounced back off the edge. Luna Lovegood swept in, reading The Quibbler. Neville looked to be on the verge of making an expression but caught himself with a swift look from Harry, who pushed off some parchment sitting on the seat next to him so that the new arrival could sit down.  
  
"Hi Luna," He said pleasantly.  
  
Loony sat down as if in a daze, saying absently,  
  
"There have been lots of sightings of Quigglebumps."  
  
Neither Harry nor Neville were sure how to respond to this so they avoided it and went straight onto what they had done over the holidays. Harry, rather than recount his summer, was content to just sit back and half listen to what attacks there had been and what exactly Neville's uncle liked to do with toads. He mused to himself about the mark of the lion and what it meant. He was sure Dumbledore already had enough to deal with.  
  
He bit his lip, knowing that wasn't the real answer. Why should he tell Dumbledore? The old man had avoided him for almost all of the school year. Besides, what if the headmaster thought Occlumency more of an issue because he wasn't having any pain in his scar? Harry stared out the window at the darkening sky. He wasn't in the mood for this.  
  
"What?" He snapped out of his daze, aware that Neville had asked him a question.  
  
Neville repeated immediately,  
  
"I said, are you going to continue DA this year?"  
  
"Oh!" Harry supposed with all the visits he'd had from the Weasleys (avoiding a rather quiet Percy whenever it occurred) and the growing mark of the lion, the thought of DA had swept clean out of his mind, "Um, I guess so."  
  
Luna peered over the edge of the magazine, about to comment on the subject when the compartment door slid open again, but with much greater gentleness. Framed at the entrance were Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Seamus strode in and, turning slightly pink, said,  
  
"I may have been a bit short with you last year, Harry, but I just want you to know that you now have my support."  
  
Harry didn't know what to say at first. He had to quickly amend himself,  
  
"Uh, thanks Seamus. It counts, it really does."  
  
Dean nodded at the occupants before he and Seamus shut the door and went back down to their own compartment. There was a brief silence, broken moments after by Luna who said with the same amount of mistiness as Professor Trelawney,  
  
"Some people are returning to Hogwarts, but not all of them."  
  
"Think I'm a mad man, still?" Harry stretched back with a yawn.  
  
Neville gave him a questioning look,  
  
"Have you been at all reading the Daily Prophet? There's been that many attacks! Some people feel it isn't safe anymore."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows in response. He didn't see why it wouldn't be safe at Hogwarts, what with Dumbledore back. And besides, hadn't the newspaper cleared it all up? If that hadn't done it, Rita Skeeter's ludicrous "unsung hero" articles that continued to run had definitely chased up any stragglers. He never thought that anything that reporter wrote would make him feel better, but obviously it had happened.  
  
"But that's stupid," Harry protested, "There's no place safer than Hogwarts."  
  
Neville put his hands behind his head,  
  
"Maybe the moon, but besides, it is stupid. Michael Corner almost wasn't allowed back, did you hear?"  
  
The compartment door was forced open and a small brood of students eagerly claimed their support for Harry. Neville realised his mouth was hanging open and closed it, eyes still popping. Harry was also astonished, almost not sure how to thank his visitors.  
  
"What's going on here?" Demanded a gruff voice.  
  
The newcomer was six feet something, his head scraping the ceiling of the train. He was wrapped in a dark brown cloak fastened by a gold clasp bearing the Ministry seal. One of the students demanded back,  
  
"And who the hell are you?"  
  
He looked affronted, silver hair drawn over a pale face and set hazel eyes,  
  
"Do you not know that Ministry representatives are patrolling the Hogwarts Express for the duration of the trip?"  
  
Answered with blank faces, he suddenly came upon Harry's own and did the familiar double take. Harry smirked at this, wondering what sort of reception he'd get. The representative's wintry expression vanished immediately, before adding crossly as he continued down the corridor,  
  
"Just informing you."  
  
The knot of students followed, twittering amongst themselves. Neville's mouth had become thin and he excused himself shortly after. Harry watched him go and turned to Luna, deeply immersed within her father's magazine. He noticed that she sported bright yellow feathers tucked in behind each ear. He wondered if, bored as he was, Luna would actually conduct a normal conversation. Harry opened his mouth to speak when suddenly Loony went rigid in her seat, the magazine slipping from her fingers.  
  
"Luna?" He asked tentatively, "Are you alright?"  
  
Instead of her usual vacant expression, her face seemed taunt. Harry was reminded quickly of the not so comfortable performance Professor Trelawney has pulled off in his third year during the Divination exam. Biting his lip, he debated whether or not to get someone - being alone, something of this occurrence was not at all reassuring.  
  
Light filtered back into Luna Lovegood's eyes and she returned to a distant smile, saying softly in a song sing voice,  
  
"Right as rain, right as rain."  
  
Harry wondered fleetingly if she really was a loony. Maybe that display had been normal, considering what kind of antics she got up to. Quigglebumps, honestly! He smiled at the thought, barely masking the snigger that fought to escape him. He looked out the window at the countryside, keeping one eye on Luna who seemed content with the magazine.  
  
Oh let her, he thought tiredly, It's not like it's her fault for being that way.  
  
~~~  
  
"Harry, wake up!"  
  
It took a moment for Harry to open his eyes and adjust to the fact that there was a freckled face looming in front of his. A face that had red hair sprouting from the tops of it. Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, muttering,  
  
"I wish you'd pick a better way to wake me up. Have you been taking lessons from Dobby?"  
  
"Nice to see you too," Ron grinned and passed over a pastry from the food trolley, "They've got Ministry people patrolling the train so I'm off duty."  
  
Hermione was sitting on the same seat as Luna, though a distance was notable. The prefect of the two had opted for a polite indifference to anything that might be said. Hermione gave Ron a disapproving glance as he attacked his food energetically. She chanced lightly,  
  
"Is Ginny still going out with Dean?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and didn't bother to answer. Getting past a mouthful of Chocolate Frogs, he centred his attention on Harry,  
  
"You should have seen Mum this morning. Bill got a tattoo recently."  
  
"A. . .tattoo?" Harry repeated incredulously, rubbing his upper arm unconsciously, "Tell him he should get leather boots instead of dragon hide."  
  
Hermione looked at him, concerned and knowing the cause of his discomfit. She motioned her head towards the compartment door but Harry shook his head. Suddenly Harry remembered the book he'd bought in Diagon Alley and went to his trunk - just as the door slid open.  
  
Harry stood up and remarked coolly,  
  
"I thought we'd be getting a visit from our little Slytherin friends."  
  
Draco Malfoy was flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, as usual. Somehow Harry wasn't surprised to see them and he thought he knew what this verbal challenge would be about. Sure enough Malfoy drawled,  
  
"So brave, Potter. I would have expected you to be otherwise, without your other little friend."  
  
"Father out of prison then?" Ron demanded, sweets spilling from his lap as he stood up.  
  
Hermione, however, did nothing to hold Ron back or the oncoming fight. She simply picked out a book from her trunk and buried herself in it. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Ron and Harry all looked at her. Luna was similarly immersed in The Quibbler. Harry wasn't worried, even though his wand was stuck in the bottom of his trunk. He supposed he had no real use for it anymore.  
  
He smirked at Malfoy and said flippantly,  
  
"Oh, I'm just disappointed you haven't learnt your lesson yet. How long did it take your mother to look up all the counter-jinxes? Probably all summer."  
  
There was a tense silence. Crookshanks hissed and spat, having previously been dormant. Harry meet Malfoy's eyes squarely, silently egging him on. Malfoy didn't rise to the dare, instead turned without a word and marched off down the corridor with his cronies.  
  
"That was weird," Ron commented, shutting the door, "Hermione, why didn't you try to stop us?"  
  
Hermione smiled over the top of her book,  
  
"I rather thought Harry had things covered."  
  
Ron looked for a moment as if he was about to argue, but just shook his head. Luna grinned bemusedly at Harry, making him feel somewhat uncomfortable,  
  
"That one was funny too. Do you think he's seen Quigglebumps?"  
  
There really was no answer to that and Harry didn't bother trying to invent one.  
  
~~~  
  
The first thing Harry noticed as he stepped off the train at Hogsmeade Station was that Hagrid was at the end of the platform with a lantern and calling the first years to him. If Harry had to choose one thing to remain normal, it would be that. Sighing, he pushed his way through crowds of chatting students and waved over to Hagrid.  
  
Luna tagged at his elbow, muttering to herself. Harry had the faint suspicion that she was trying to learn the magazine by heart. Catching the looks that the people gave him as he passed, he wondered if they were supporting or wary. He barely even gave the Thestrals standing patiently and scuffing the damp earth a glance as he singled out one carriage.  
  
He went closer to the carriage and saw that the Thestral hooked up to it was pawing. Frowning, Harry moved closer, eyes narrowed. Was that normal Thestral behaviour? The others were moving, but weren't doing so agitatedly. The beast suddenly looked up at him, sending a chill down Harry's spine. He tasted bile for a moment and choked it down.  
  
The creature stopped moving, glaring almost sightlessly at him. Harry felt his stomach protest for no reason, his eyes never leaving the Thestral. He crept just a tad closer, having only slight misgivings. The Thestral suddenly reared, making a strange screaming noise. Harry toppled over backwards and looked up at the flailing creature. Luna was watching it with mild interest, but the Thestral wasn't the only thing moving.  
  
The carriage somehow unhooked and went careening into several others. Harry dimly became aware that the students nearest had started screaming. He jumped to his feet, grabbed Luna and sped down to join those watching the chaos.  
  
He didn't particularly feel like being caught at the scene, so to speak.  
  
~~~  
  
Crazy, crazy Thestral. . .Hehe. 


	7. No DADA Professor?

Disclaimer: Not mine! Go the Thestral! Summer Breen kinda belongs to my beta reader who wrote about this girl in X-Men fanfiction. . .hids, is the author's name.  
  
Fiery Phoenix, Katani Petitedra, Giggles, SilverCentaur, Slim5. Facade1: Yay! Thankyou for your lovely reviews.  
  
Kelek: I'm worried that you thought this was a Harry-is-Snape's-son story. Um, does this look like an answer to the Severitus challenge??? *Confused*  
  
AN: This chapter is dedicated to my Benjamin Tonks, who will not appear in this story due to the fact he will confuse ppl.  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Seven: No DADA Professor?  
  
~~~  
  
"Did you see what happened? That was so weird!"  
  
"It was like the carriages just started rolling down hill for no reason . . ."  
  
The students pushing their way into the Entrance Hall could speak of nothing but the carriages. Harry kept silent, catching the look that Hermione passed over to Ron on his other side. There was no real movement, due to the fact that Peeves had taken to Dive-bombing everyone with what looked like the latest invention of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes.  
  
"Mr Potter!" A voice called out of the din.  
  
Harry, blinded by a violet cloud billowing out in front of him, almost toppled over. He squinted around and instinctively reached for his glasses, which were tucked away at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He sighed in exasperation and waved a hand. The thick smoke blew off towards a more crowded section of the floor. Professor McGonagall was fighting her way over to him, a hand steadying her hat.  
  
Waving to show he'd heard, Harry made his way over, able to see over most of the heads that blocked his way. He stopped beside McGonagall and pressed up against the wall, hardly missing a beat,  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
He followed her just out of reach of the mass of black robes down a corridor off to the side. The Head of Gryffindor took a moment to catch her breath and, looking distinctly up at Harry, she held out a gold-rimmed badge to him. For one wild moment, Harry wondered if it was a Prefect badge, but the shining inscription said otherwise. Wordlessly, he pinned it to his robes and just stared at her.  
  
"Your Quidditch ban has been revoked," McGonagall smiled faintly, an achievement for her, "You'll have quite a team to collect."  
  
With that, she was gone. Harry followed out after a brief moment of looking proudly down at the Quidditch Captain badge. The crowd had thinned when he reached the Great Hall, allowing him through the doors. The moment he entered, several people made to rise, but he hurried down to where Ron and Hermione were sitting.  
  
Hermione was watching the staff table, frowning,  
  
"There's Hagrid's seat . . .but I don't see anyone new this year."  
  
Ron wasn't paying any attention to her - he was gawking at Harry. He began pulling on Hermione's sleeve and pointing. Hermione finally looked and she said matter of factly,  
  
"Well, I assumed that was what Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to you about. I don't see how you're going to revise properly if you're too busy with Quidditch."  
  
"Dumbledore's probably feeling bad about not making you a prefect," Ron said happily.  
  
Harry scanned the teachers at the staff table carefully,  
  
"Snape doesn't look too happy, so I'm guessing it's someone we'll like."  
  
An excited murmur became louder as the first years followed Hagrid into the hall and past the house tables eagerly. Seamus Finnigan, who'd sat across from them, seemed to be avoiding the eyes of the new students. A short girl with dark brown hair in pigtails giggled and waved from the first years at him. Seamus caught the pointed look Harry was giving him.  
  
"Me cousin," Seamus explained, with a forced smile.  
  
Harry turned to look at the Sorting Hat, which was resting on its usual stool. There was silence, in which the hat seemed to be struggling with itself. Harry briefly wondered if it was having a coronary but soon enough it began its song:  
  
Once again the four will rise  
  
inside those of flesh and blood.  
  
To work together, to maintain the peace,  
  
or fight their raging battles  
  
on this mortal playground.  
  
The eagle will fly in great peril,  
  
the badger will crawl only little,  
  
the serpent will choose to stem or create,  
  
but these against the lion  
  
are petty under rulers.  
  
At the sixteenth turn of life  
  
Receive all that which is due  
  
yet needed are the guardians  
  
those who are the wise  
  
Attempt to sew together  
  
the four that again shall rise.  
  
No one was quite sure what to make up of this one, mainly because it had scant to do with warnings or what the characteristics of each house were. Not for the first time, whispers threaded through the somewhat stagnant applause. Even some of the teachers looked at each other with blank expressions. Ron said thoughtfully,  
  
"I always wondered when that hat would flip. That made no sense whatsoever."  
  
"When has it ever made sense?" Harry countered, grinning.  
  
But Hermione had rested her shin in her hand, barely watching the first years walking nervously towards the Sorting Hat. She said softly,  
  
"No, that makes sense. What I don't understand - Ron stop giving me that look - is why it would choose to tell us that the four houses are competing when last year it advised us to join together."  
  
"Oh, give the hat a rest," Ron told her as "Breen, Summer" became a Ravenclaw. Harry's eyes wandered to Dumbledore for a moment, then he looked determinedly at the first years.  
  
"Chambers, Alexandra."  
  
A short girl with her face scrunched up in concentration so that her glasses crammed against her eyes jammed the hat onto her head with anticipation. The next moment the hat declared,  
  
"Gryffindor!"  
  
Beaming, the Alexandra Chambers threw the hat off onto the floor and skidded up to the table that was applauding her. She sat down so vigorously that the bench rocked and several people sitting near her tried to shift away.  
  
The hat made slow progress of the first years, all the while Ron staying at the culinary in front of him with longing. Hermione still looked pensive by the time Seamus' cousin had reached the front of the line. Professor McGonagall read out,  
  
"McPherson, Siobhan."  
  
The girl went cautiously over to the stool and poked the hat. When it made no moves to bite her finger, she gingerly lowered it onto her head. It seemed like the Sorting Hat took ages to decide, with Siobhan McPherson wriggling underneath it as if she'd sat on something. The hat opened its brim and got as far as "Rav -!" when the girl ripped it off her head.  
  
"Don't you dare!" She squeaked, glaring at the hat in her hands. She began shaking it vigorously, Seamus sinking lower and lower into his seat at the Gryffindor table. Siobhan held it at arms length, "You can't make me go in Ravenclaw you big bully."  
  
She was about to punch it when the hat gave up and croaked,  
  
"Gryffindor."  
  
Ron clapped, grinning,  
  
"She could have been best friends with Loony. They could have played 'hit the Sorting Hat' together."  
  
"She could have at least been a bit quieter," Hermione looked down the table at the girl, "I managed it."  
  
Ron had to duck under the table to muffle his laughter. Harry managed to keep a straight face and waited expectantly while "Vier, Saxon" shuffled off to the Slytherin table and "Zuckuss, Janine" sat with the Hufflepuffs. Professor Dumbledore got to his feet and beamed around at the sea of students before him. To Harry it looked strained, but the Headmaster sounded his usual self,  
  
"Welcome back to another year of filling your heads! But before I content you with the feast, there are a few minor details. Students are to be inside their House areas after dinner and will be punished for any late night wanderings," (Harry sighed dramatically at this).  
  
"Students are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds and Hogsmeade visits are restricted to third years and upwards. The Prefects and new Head Boy and Girl will ensure that no such rule bending will occur. Magic is not permitted between classes in the corridors. Anyone who disagrees with this can tell Mr Filch themselves.  
  
"And now that I have kept you far too long, let the feast begin!"  
  
Ron immediately grabbed the nearest thing he could reach and scoffed it down. Hermione didn't touch her food, only looking down at it in distaste. Harry peered over his goblet at her,  
  
"SPEW business again?"  
  
"No," Hermione replied, looking more concerned that annoyed, "He didn't mention the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
Ron coughed loudly for a moment then shrugged,  
  
"Who says we even need one this year? We could always just use Harry."  
  
At this, Harry set his goblet down heavier than he intended to. A searing pain had shot across his scar and had continued to do so. Biting his lip, he tapped Ron on the shoulder and discreetly motioned to his forehead. Hermione's eyes widened and it looked like she itched to go to Dumbledore. The thing that bothered Harry was that nothing like this had happened before his birthday.  
  
He shot a significant look at his friends and busied himself with the pumpkin juice. He was saved anymore when Seamus' cousin came running up to their part of the table and thumping Seamus energetically,  
  
"Did you see, did you see? I got into Gryffindor."  
  
"I noticed," Seamus said dryly.  
  
"And guess what? The Hat thought I was smart enough to go into Ravenclaw!"  
  
Siobhan then beamed at her next targets. She looked once at Harry, then did a double take. She leant over Seamus and the feast, shaking Harry's hand excitedly,  
  
"You're Harry Potter! And you're in Gryffindor! We're going to be the best of friends."  
  
"Er," He raised an eyebrow at Seamus who chooed his cousin away.  
  
Seamus seized a napkin and wiped up the steadily dripping jug of juice, smiling apologetically at Harry,  
  
"Cousin on me mam's side. She's been living in Ireland."  
  
Harry sat back and looked up at the ceiling. The Gryffindor banner hanging overhead depicted a lion and for a moment, he felt content. Then his mind began registering something and he couldn't quite pick it out. Suddenly, it clicked. The pictured lion above him was exactly like the one on his arm. He sat up properly and whirled to face Hermione.  
  
She was still frowning at the staff table, lips pursed. Deciding to leave her to it, Harry stared down at his plate. He wondered if the tattoo had been some kind of Weasley Wizard Wheezes joke, but a very poor one at that. No, it had started appearing before he met up with the twins. He remembered the book tucked into his trunk, still not taken from its package when purchased at Diagon Alley. What was he afraid of?  
  
By the time Dumbledore stood up again, Harry realised he must have eaten because he was full. The Headmaster dismissed them off to bed and just stood there, watching the students file out. Ron cut into Harry's thoughts by stretching into his peripheral vision,  
  
"I'm so glad I don't have to shepherd that lot this year."  
  
"Poor Ginny," Harry added, watching the two Gryffindor fifth year prefects try to round up a small chattering group of the newest house members.  
  
Hermione cleared her through and gestured towards the staff table with her head,  
  
"If you don't, I will, Harry."  
  
Harry looked back to the table and shook his head,  
  
"I'll wait 'till tomorrow. If I'm too tired to think straight, he probably is as well."  
  
One of the last groups to leave, they made their way up the marble staircase and towards the Gryffindor tower. Ron began counting on his fingers how many servings of pudding he'd hand, but soon ran out of digits to count off. When they reached her, the Fat Lady squinted her eyes at them until Hermione said clearly,  
  
"Nymphit Toddle."  
  
The portrait swung open, admitting them to a relatively quiet common room. Everyone had made their way up to the right dormitories already. Hermione bade them goodnight and disappeared up the girl's staircase. Ron watched the steps she went up suspiciously and needed reminding that the whole idea of stairs was to put a foot up first.  
  
Harry pulled on his pajamas and muttered a goodnight to the others before drawing his curtains closed. He wasn't ready to go to bed - not yet anyway. He waited until the noises that his mates made when they were asleep to penetrate the hangings and reached out to his trunk and brought out the book with the lion on it.  
  
He opened it slowly, expecting something - anything - to happen. Nothing did. It was a blank bound book with no sign of ink anywhere in it. Reminded of Riddle's diary, Harry tried writing messages but they smudged and ran down the pages. Sighing, he tucked it under his bed and closed his eyes. For a long time, he just lay there, wondering why the book had been so expensive if nothing was in it.  
  
~~~  
  
AN: Summer Breen comes from hids' stories so go check her out. Um, Siobhan is pronounced Shivourne. Credit to Alex and Siobhan for bringing up Benjamin Tonks who, I regret to say again, will not be is this story.  
  
Next chapter: Just who is the DADA teacher? I gave you a clue, did you pick it up? 


	8. Return to Sender

Disclaimer: Paper clips! I actually own paperclips! No, HP does not belong to me.  
  
NOTICE NOTICE I GOT THE GLASSES THING WRONG BUT IT'S FIXED  
  
Have also changed some character plot holes.  
  
AN: Oh. . .my. . .goodness. I've hit 60 reviews! I love you guys! *runs away from overflowing inbox*  
  
Congratulations to Katani Petitedra for coming up with a great summary! This chapter is dedicated to her, a major contributor to jolting my writer's block. She also received a beta copy of this chapter 24 hours prior to this post.  
  
New summary: On Harry's sixteenth birthday, things begin to get a little strange. Of course, if you think suddenly gaining new powers, a lion-shaped mark appearing on your arm, and having a Dark Lord taking new steps to come after you is normal, well...  
  
Virusgod, Bekah, Kemenran, wowsergirl, PlatinumPheonix, Jeffb-16, DawnRising, Mell5, PBlegacy, HongMing, Giggles: Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!  
  
Yana5: . . .now!  
  
Fiery Phoenix: Siobhan, irritating? Of course!  
  
SilverCentaur: Sorry about that reputation! Hehe.  
  
Physics fan, Websurffer, I-love-sirius73, Sakura_star: To avoid a cliché, Harry will NOT be the DADA teacher, but the clue was the password to Gryffindor tower.  
  
Dada-wild: When that happens, go up and replace (for example) the six with a seven in the search bar after "chapter =".  
  
Wowsergirl: Sorry! Here *throws chapter* you can have it!  
  
Naseis: I'm aiming for around 35 chappies, but that's not fixed yet.  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Eight: Return to Sender  
  
~~~  
  
Harry slept badly. He could never remember any of the dreams that woke him up, but they always ended with the lion from the Gryffindor banner jumping out into the Great Hall. When he could no longer close his eyes, he went to the window and peered out. It was still dim enough that there wasn't much to see, so he decided to take a shower.  
  
He had the customary scrutiny of the lion mark on his arm and again tried to scrub it off. This time Harry didn't bother much with it and pulled on some black Hogwarts robes. He escaped from the quiet dormitory downstairs where Ron found him later, trying to make his fringe lie flat.  
  
"Couldn't sleep?" Ron asked, stretching, "Same."  
  
Harry shot him a startled look,  
  
"I thought I was the only one up all night."  
  
Ron shrugged and covered a yawn, waiting until he could speak again,  
  
"I'm starting to think Hermione's got a point, mate. Maybe you should go to Dumbledore."  
  
Harry didn't answer, silently fuming. He could take care of himself - he didn't need people running after him all the time. A glass pane shattered nearby, sending in a chilly draft. Ignoring the raised eyebrow he got from Ron, Harry stared at the window until it repaired.  
  
"I will," He insisted, "I just don't think it's very important."  
  
Ron just stared at him and looked on the verge of saying something, but shook his head instead. He walked over to the portrait and climbed out, Harry following after a tense moment. The Fat Lady sleepily bade them on their way before dozing off again.  
  
The Great Hall was not completely empty when they arrived, but there were enough people around for Ron to drop his voice to a whisper. Harry shut out whatever he was saying and absently poured out some Pumpkin Juice for himself. Some of the teachers were conferring in low tones and not one of their expressions was devoid of worry.  
  
Harry was saved any further distraction from Ron when Katie Bell and one of her friends made their way over to him. They were entering their last year of Hogwarts, he remembered.  
  
"I'm Quidditch Captain," Harry informed Katie shortly.  
  
She rolled her eyes and tugged on the badge,  
  
"Who else would McGonagall choose? At least without Oliver and Angelina we can get some sleep this year. By the way, Harry, with Alicia gone we'll need to hold try outs."  
  
Harry straightened his badge carefully, thanking the girls mentally for changing the subject so well. Ron immediately jumped straight into an animated conversation with them about the recent game that included Puddlemere and the failing Chudley Canons. A few minutes later, the hall had begun filling up and the two girls were called away by their friends.  
  
Hermione arrived shortly afterwards, sorting through a stack of timetables for the Gryffindor students. Ron scanned his carefully, then he grinned. He waved it in front of Harry's face and it took a moment for Harry to realise what had gotten him so stoked.  
  
"Finally," Ron said reverently, "No more Potions. . .no more Divination."  
  
Harry looked at his own and inwardly groaned. He'd forgotten completely about Potions. He frowned at his timetable,  
  
"We've got Defence Against the Dark Arts first with the Slytherins. Any idea who the teacher is?"  
  
Ron was too busy helping himself to a plate of sausages to form an answer, but snorted his opinion on having Slytherins in the same class. Harry was distracted by the arrival of the post, the owls swooping low over their heads and dropping packages all over the hall. Disinterested, he poured some Pumpkin Juice into his goblet and was about to lift his spoon when a letter dropped in front of him.  
  
He immediately recognised his own handwriting and the letter itself. Harry looked questioningly at Hedwig who merely ruffled her feathers and took off. Turning back to the letter, he realised that the envelope had been ripped open, tearing through the addressed name on the front.  
  
Feeling a churning of apprehension, he pulled the contents out but only found the letter he had written to Sirius. Obviously, someone had read it. . .but why would Hedwig go seeking them to return it to its sender? Harry stuffed it into his robe pockets and tried to eat something. Ron swallowed a mouthful of food and pointed his fork at Harry,  
  
"Are you alright, mate?"  
  
Hermione looked up from her propped up book upon hearing this. Taking in Harry's pale face and untouched food, she shut her book with a snap,  
  
"Harry, if you don't go to Dumbledore, I will."  
  
"Who's going to make me?" Harry wanted to know, idly looking at his fingers.  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes, but made no further comment. Harry reached into his pocket to pull out the letter to show her, but he found something more solid. Frowning, he pulled out the book with the lion on the cover, wondering how it ended up in his pocket. Wordlessly, he handed it to Hermione and rose from the table. He didn't feel like thinking about going to Dumbledore anymore.  
  
~~~  
  
Ron and Hermione found him ten minutes later in the DADA classroom, flipping listlessly through his books. They sat on either side of him and began a light conversation via Harry. He wished they wouldn't pester him into talking. Blocking out whatever they were saying, he stared out the windows at the sweeping grounds below.  
  
Some Thestrals were near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, pawing nervously. Harry had, in the short time he'd known of them, never seen them behave like it. They were pacing through the trees and skirtively avoiding becoming too obvious.  
  
The door to the classroom swung open and students filed in, taking seats which were parted from the other house. Hermione shook her head and was probably about to comment on the Sorting Hat's song from the previous year when Harry shot her a cautioning look. At the same time, a window shot open and let a draft of wind in.  
  
"Harry," Hermione warned.  
  
Ron happily gestured towards the Slytherins, whose books had been knocked over by the slightest breeze. He seemed particularly cheerful that the DADA teacher hadn't arrived yet either. Ron put his arms behind his head,  
  
"Anyone will be better than that Umbridge cow."  
  
"Hey, Harry!" Someone called from across the room, "When's the next DA meeting?"  
  
Hermione looked pleased that someone had brought it up other than herself and raised an eyebrow questioningly at Harry, waiting for his answer. Harry, shifting uncomfortably at all the pairs of eyes focused on him, was saved by the arrival of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
  
She tripped over something non existent at the doorway and landed on her face. Jumping to her feet, Nymphadora Tonks pushed her hair out of her face and beamed down at the students - all of whom rather startled.  
  
"Sorry I was late!" Tonks grinned, "I just forgot that term started yesterday, that's all. Now, the roll."  
  
She scanned her eyes over it, biting her lip for a moment. Ron was staring at her, grinning broadly. Harry arranged his face to hide his own grin, but failed. Tonks looked up suspiciously at the tittering class, then turned her smile back on,  
  
"Harry! Ron! Hermione! What a pleasant surprise."  
  
Ron hid behind his hands as the whole class turned in their seats to look at them. Hermione smiled vaguely back, using the expression that usually Mrs Weasley reserved for Sirius' cousin. But Tonks was already bouncing to start the lesson.  
  
"First rule - never poke a sleeping dragon! I want it written down three times, first in lower case, upper case then both."  
  
"Perhaps we should have a more. . .qualified. . .DADA professor?" Malfoy suggested, covering a forced yawn.  
  
Tonks looked quickly at the roll then smiled sweetly up at him,  
  
"A Malfoy. I thought that stench coming from the corner of the room was familiar."  
  
The students all gaped at her. Malfoy fumed, but surprisingly said no more. He glared daggers at Tonks who simply ignored him and continued with the lesson.  
  
~~~  
  
The N.E.W.T. DADA class following was much the same, but included more advanced course aims for the terms. Leaving the classroom, Harry decided that he wasn't going to be cornered into going to Dumbledore so muttered something about leaving a book behind. He was just about to leave when Tonks dropped a glass tank.  
  
"Oh no!" She wailed, "That's the seventh time since the start of summer."  
  
Harry took out his useless wand and repaired it for her, hiding the smile that had broken out on his face. He tucked it back into his robes,  
  
"Professor Tonks, what you said to Malfoy. . .it won't pass easy with the Slytherins."  
  
Tonks, using a mirror to adjust her hair colour, looked up sharply,  
  
"They'll live. Can't believe I'm related to that git," She added in a grumble, "And if I catch you calling me anything but just Tonks. . ."  
  
"You'll what?" Sighed Harry, "Give me the lecture you were about to?"  
  
He swung his bag over his shoulder and left the room.  
  
~~~  
  
Although Harry tried to avoid going to the Great Hall for dinner after Advanced Charms, his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since that morning. He was saved having to sit next to Hermione and Ron when pulled down onto the bench near the doors.  
  
"Hey!" Beamed Siobhan and pointed to the girl next to her, "This is Alex. We just wanted to know if you'd tell us a few things!"  
  
Taken back, but certainly grateful, Harry answered questions about Quidditch and the Muggle world. When he'd run out of things to say, Siobhan said brightly,  
  
"Can you tell us about Voldemort? My mam said he picks his nose and when he flicks green booga at people they die."  
  
Harry stared at her, surprised that she hadn't opted to use "You-Know-Who". Alex, the quieter girl, suddenly jumped in,  
  
"Oh wow! You have a fringe too! This is so weird!"  
  
Hungry or not, he wasn't going to hang around the pair for much longer. In some ways they were more bearable than the Creevey brothers, but in other ways, they were just as annoying. Harry excused himself, saying that he had homework to do.  
  
"Do they give you work to do on the first day in sixth year?" Siobhan looked crestfallen.  
  
"Erm," Harry managed, then made his escape.  
  
He was the only one in the Gryffindor tower when he stepped through the portrait, but didn't mind. He pulled on his pajamas and climbed into bed. This time, he was able to sleep.  
  
~~~  
  
AN: No, this isn't the end! Too short!  
  
~~~  
  
Harry dreamt that he was standing in a grimy kitchen. There were no windows and the door across from him was bolted shut, keeping the smoke and steam trapped in the room. The moisture clung to him and, for a moment, it was hard to breath.  
  
A resonating thud sounded from the door, shifting eddies of dust from underneath. Harry stepped backwards and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Spinning, he saw someone he knew crouched by the table.  
  
"Professor Moody?" He asked tentatively.  
  
It suddenly struck Harry that he'd never seen the retired Auror quite so defeated, not even in his fourth year when looking down at him in a comatose state. And Mad-Eye didn't seem to have heard or seen him. Another thud sent shivers through Harry and he crouched also, wondering if he was finally having a Voldemort dream.  
  
The door made a crack as it popped out of its hinges and banged sharply on the stone wall. All the steam blew in a frenzied turn; Harry couldn't see much further than the end of the table. But he didn't need the flash of green light that blinded him or the glimpse of something not quite human to know who had entered the kitchen.  
  
He felt like he was blown backwards - then came down on the floor of the dormitory with a sickening thud, much like the ones from the dream.  
  
"Harry! What happened?"  
  
"Bad dream," He muttered, Ron's face swimming before his eyes.  
  
Ron helped him to his feet, freckles standing out on his just as pale face,  
  
"Are you alright? Was it a. . ." He caught himself with a look at the other boys.  
  
Harry pressed a hand to his forehead, frowning. He sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his unruly fringe, saying dazedly,  
  
"I'm. . .alright. . .Ron, my scar isn't hurting."  
  
~~~  
  
AN: DUN DUN DUN  
  
Well it's not a cliffie! I swear! Next chappie. . .will Harry FINALLY go to Dumbledore? What will Siobhan and Alex do?  
  
Btw, sixth year students (in the land of HyperCaz) take two compulsory basic subjects - DADA and Charms. The rest of their classes are N.E.W.T ones.  
  
PS: I am looking to add a new character! You get to make one up. They will have to be a Chaser on the Ravenclaw (yes, I've revised it) Quidditch team, but besides that, you've got complete liberty. The best description/bio earns a beta copy of chapter nine and your character will appear in Sign of the Lion. 


	9. Without Reason

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nada zippo. BUT one of the characters (namely Arisa Quintly) who will appear later in this fic belongs to Hexe605.  
  
Author's Notes  
  
Hexe605 gave a well-defined bio (if a bit long! But I don't mind) and I did change it from Gryffindor to Ravenclaw.  
  
Fiery Phoenix: The dream is basically showing that *gasp* Moody died.  
  
Simpleinsanity: I managed.  
  
Shapeshifter: Thankyou! I'll start explaining very shortly. And I plan to leave Dumbledore at a distance. Good try with the comp.  
  
Star 67: Thx for the bio - maybe you can write a story about Karl yourself? Nyways, I'll try to at least mention him.  
  
SilverCentaur: Good try - btw, how's the reputation? *Grins*  
  
Kemenran, asdf, Badassgothicgirl, skscjk, Naseis, Gaul1, giggles, Lord Master Omega, Kifira: Thanks for the reviews!  
  
TuxedoMac: It is never stated that Alicia and Katie were in Angelina's year.  
  
Dr. Who: Rory! Glad you reviewed . . . . .I like your character so expect to see him round but he's of no real plot significance.  
  
LOLA: I was going to make Judith a witch, but decided to lose her. "Dumbledork"? Lol! Nah, Harry's not going to get around to it, the procrastinator.  
  
Okay enough procrastinating on my part! Oh, I've changed the compulsory classes to Charms and DADA. *Runs away from airborne fruit* Sorry! I've been up all night at Giggle's sleepover and I decided to change it. AND it is very hard to write Dumbie-speak so bear with me.  
  
"Nothing is without reason" - Jane W. Delaney  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Nine: Without Reason  
  
~~~  
  
Harry, needing no insistence from Ron, stuck his feet into his slippers. He reached for his trunk and paused,  
  
"Do you think I'll need the cloak?"  
  
"Should," Ron responded, uneasily looking sideways at Neville.  
  
Harry threw on his dressing gown to conceal the cloak and hurried down the stairs into the common room. The fireplace was still alight, cheerfully illuminating the empty room. As the portrait hole swung open, footsteps came fast up behind him. Ron swung a leg over and into the corridor. He shrugged at Harry's pointed look,  
  
"Hermione would should come, but she needs some shut eye after spending all her time . . .uh," Ron's ears went red, " . . .reading that book."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He instead kept an eye out for Mrs Norris, deciding that whatever the reason he was out of bed, Filch would still skin him alive. Throwing the cloak over him and Ron, he silently made the way towards Dumbledore's office. There was a draft pillaging the air and causing the torches to flicker rapidly. A resounding boom shot down the corridor, making Ron jump.  
  
Harry shook his head and rounded the corner. Remaining torches threw the gargoyle into sharp relief, but the shadow stretched ominously behind. Harry sighed and said sideways to Ron,  
  
"We'll have to guess the password."  
  
"You do that," Ron leant up against the wall, smothering a yawn.  
  
Turning back to the gargoyle, Harry ran quickly through the lists of wizarding sweets he knew (including some of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes') then through some Muggle ones. Having no luck, he settled for kicking the statue, but only received a painful jolt up his leg. Ron coughed into his hand,  
  
"Mate, instead of wasting your time thinking up all of Fred and George's latest catalogue, you could just get it to move."  
  
Harry shot him a frustrated look, but nevertheless waved his hand at the statue in a polite gesture. The gargoyle was wrenched aside by an invisble force. Ignoring Ron's smirk, he stepped onto the moving staircase (leaving less than enough space for Ron) and stepped off at the top. Opening the door, he saw Dumbledore already seated behind the ornate desk.  
  
"Ah, Harry, I was wondering when you would come," The eyes behind the half moon spectacles twinkled.  
  
Harry felt a sudden sick feeling in his stomach. He sat on the edge of the seat closest to him and asked quietly,  
  
"It was Moody wasn't it?"  
  
Waiting a moment, he launched into a quick description of his dream. After he had finished, Dumbledore was quiet for a moment then looked levelly across the desk at Harry,  
  
"Alastor Moody was reported missing several hours ago. You only just had the dream then?"  
  
Harry nodded mutely; Ron shifted. Fawkes the phoenix, perched near Dumbledore, chattered restlessly.  
  
"And your scar didn't hurt," It was not a question, "It appears you have taken Occlumency well, Harry. I suggest that you attempt to get some more sleep before class tomorrow."  
  
Inwardly, Harry snorted. He stood up and had his hand on the doorknob when Dumbledore said suddenly,  
  
"Is there anything you wish to talk about?"  
  
"No, sir, nothing," Harry lied, though Ron stepped on his foot. Stealing one backward glance at the headmaster before stepping on to the staircase, Harry pushed any repercussions from his mind.  
  
~~~  
  
"You could have at least woken me," Hermione said irritably as she buttered her toast the next morning.  
  
"Hermione, we can't even get up into your dorm without the whole tower knowing," Ron pointed out, "How were we supposed to?"  
  
Hermione laid aside her knife and instead asked of Harry,  
  
"Did Professor Dumbledore tell you what Moody was doing?"  
  
Ron chortled,  
  
"As if he would, Hermione. Poor Mad-Eye though - all his paranoia couldn't save him. Shame about last night."  
  
"Shame about what?" Repeated Hermione shortly, clearly unhappy that Ron had answered her instead.  
  
"Not that!" Ron corrected hurriedly, throwing a quick look at Harry who pretended to be very busy with his bacon, "I meant Moody."  
  
Harry smirked and pushed his plate away, changing the subject lightly,  
  
"Have you found anything out about the book yet?"  
  
Hermione immediately brightened and pulled the blank book out. She flipped through it indiscriminately,  
  
"I thought at first it might be invisible ink, so tried a few simple revealing spells but came up with nothing. I even tried a spell which . . ."  
  
Ron coughed.  
  
"Simply," Hermione gave him a withering look, "None of the spells I attempted worked. Finally, I realised the writer had used a wax stylus."  
  
She paused, waiting for the effect it would have on them. Giving up, she thrust the book in front of Harry's nose,  
  
"See? Any liquid spread over it would reveal the wax!"  
  
Harry took the book and opened it to the first page. The white scrawl in an upper corner spelt "Jarvis Trelawney", surrounded by a smudge of what looked like Pumpkin Juice. He was about to turn to the next page when the doors of the Great Hall burst open, admitting a giggling Alex and Siobhan. The Creevey brothers, sitting nearest to the doors, immediately moved down several metres along the bench.  
  
"If they're worried," Ron waved a free hand at the Creeveys, "Then I'm worried."  
  
Harry privately agreed, but managed a painful smile as the two girls sat heavily on the bench next to him. Alex pushed her round and almost opaque glasses up her nose,  
  
"We are officially very cool people."  
  
Siobhan giggled. Ron scowled at her.  
  
"We," Alex continued, oblivious to the looks she was getting from all four house tables, "Have made all the toilet paper in the castle disappear."  
  
At this, Siobhan fell off the bench, howling with laughter. Her friend grinned devilishly and drank deeply from a nearby goblet. Hermione's eyebrows rose but she chose not to comment; only flashing Ron a warning look. Harry helped Siobhan back onto the bench, but she fell back off again.  
  
At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked briskly through the doors. There was no question as to who she was looking for. Alex and Siobhan were suddenly nowhere to be seen. Hermione set down her half eaten toast and stood up, annoyed,  
  
"Come on - I've had enough of them."  
  
Harry watched Siobhan streak under the Hufflepuff table and shook his head. He followed Ron and Hermione out into the Entrance Hall. Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper, the Gryffindor Beaters stopped him.  
  
"Congratulations on becoming Captain," Andrew said stiffly, looking extremely uncomfortable.  
  
Jack bobbed his head in agreement, but there was a sombre expression on his face. Andrew cleared his throat,  
  
"My mum doesn't want me playing Quidditch anymore."  
  
"I thought you were Muggle born, though," Harry said slowly, already knowing where this was going.  
  
Andrew shifted a little, not meeting his eyes,  
  
"I told her about it and. .I don't want to be that humiliated anymore."  
  
Harry turned to Jack, who was flushed up the neck,  
  
"You too?"  
  
"Er, sorry, Harry," Jack said nervously, "Same reason."  
  
Harry watched them go, shaking his head. He'd have to get some new Beaters then and probably shuffle Ginny into the position of Chaser. She had been good at it, apparently. He hurried to catch up with Ron and Hermione.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry and Hermione, after being laughed at by Ron, made their way down to the dungeons for N.E.W.T Potions. Their breath rose as steam and most of the class seemed comprised of Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy. Harry was relieved to notice that Crabbe and Goyle had obviously not made it into the class.  
  
"Oh, this will be horrible," Hermione, muttered, also noticing the Slytherins.  
  
Ernie Macmillan waved them over to where he was sitting at the back. They set their things next to his and blew on their hands while they waited for Snape to arrive. Sure enough, the Potions Master swept into the room and up to his desk, surveying the class with distaste.  
  
"Some of you," He said softly, "Might be under the impression that because they are in this class, they are exceptionally gifted. Do not disillusion yourself. It is not uncommon for students to leave this class by Halloween."  
  
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. He had a desperate feeling to do something to really upset Snape, but not draw attention to himself. Deliberately, he set his wand on the desk in front of him so that the Potions Master could not possibly lay the blame on him. Hermione seemed to know what he was about to do and kicked him.  
  
Snape continued his speech, but Harry didn't seem to be able to hear it. A glass container fell off the teacher's desk onto the floor with a resounding crash, sending a foul smelling liquid towards the glass. Struggling to keep a straight face, he turned to Hermione in an attempt to look innocent,  
  
"What?"  
  
~~~  
  
Transfiguration began in much the same way - Professor McGonagall (still looking cross from Siobhan and Alex's antics that morning) gave them a quiet but meaningful speech about the seriousness of the next year's N.E.W.Ts. Hermione listened to every word intently in a bid to find any advice on the exams. Harry attempted to listen, but found his eyes wandering to Hermione's bag on the floor where the lion book was just peeking out. Forcing himself to look up, he again tried to concentrate.  
  
"Today we will be starting the Transaxle Transformation," McGonagall peered through her glasses at all of them, "Which requires a witch or wizard's full attention. Can anyone describe it for the class?"  
  
Unsurprisingly, Hermione's hand shot up immediately and as soon as she was picked, gushed,  
  
"The Transaxle Transformation, also known as the Hereditary Conversion, is the changing of an organism into a form specified by any effects taken to either parent by certain spells. In rare cases it has been related to certain abilities passed onto the child."  
  
Harry, deciding that he'd better give Transfiguration at least some attention, took notes. He paused as Hermione let out a soft "oh" and bit her lip. She quickly scribbled on her parchment until the quill ran dry. She crumpled it up and stuck in her bag, catching Harry's eye. In response to his quizzical expression, Hermione only shook her head.  
  
Harry then rushed to copy down what McGonagall was writing on the board.  
  
~~~  
  
"It's torture," Groaned Ron, "There's only eight in the class."  
  
After N.E.W.T. History of Magic, Ron was rather spent and didn't appear to be improving at all. It didn't help that Hermione had brought up Moody again. She was saying absently,  
  
"Why him though? There must have been a motive in Voldemort's actions."  
  
Ron flinched, looked aggrieved,  
  
"Don't say that so loud! Anyway, You-Know-Who doesn't need a reason to kill people. It's his nature."  
  
"Voldemort hardly does things without reason," Hermione countered boldly.  
  
Harry sighed and wanted to avoid any squabbles that he might be caught in the middle of. He quickly cut into whatever Hermione would say,  
  
"Are you going to tell me what got you so excited in Transfiguration?"  
  
Hermione pulled out the parchment from her bag and smoothed it out, and said without looking at it,  
  
"I was thinking how you came to have wandless magic and thought that it might have something to do with any spells that may have been performed on your parents."  
  
"Uh . . ." Harry didn't really know what to say to that.  
  
"Or," Continued Hermione, clearly not noticing the looks Ron and Harry were exchanging, "It may have been the Avada Kedavra curse Voldemort inflicted on you."  
  
This was all too much for Ron who snorted (once he'd finished flinching),  
  
"As if - and stop saying that name!"  
  
Within moments, Ron and Hermione were bickering about Voldemort killing people without reason. Harry listlessly played with his food. The shadow that Tom Riddle had become certainly didn't need a reason to kill someone on the Order of the Phoenix. Or did he?  
  
~~~  
  
AN: I've hit something of a dilemma. I'm changing the system again.  
  
Basically, there are two compulsory classes for 6th and 7th year students - Charms and DADA.  
  
On top of that, there are their N.E.W.T classes.  
  
Harry takes N.E.W.T. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, DADA and Care of Magical Creatures. He also does an off the side Herbology class which can be done as N.E.W.T if he wants to.  
  
Hermione . . .she does a heap of stuff. No Astronomy, Muggle Studies or Care of Magical creatures classes though. She does too much for an "off the side".  
  
Ron takes N.E.W.T DADA, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms and Herbology. He specifically did not want to do Transfiguration as an "off the side" so doesn't have any subject like that. But every so often, he'll have an extra class of COMC or Herbology.  
  
Now that's sorted!!!  
  
Quidditch: Those remaining on the Gryffindor team are Alicia Spinnet (Chaser), Katie Bell (Chaser), Ginny Weasley (Chaser), Ron Weasley (Keeper) and Harry!! (Seeker, duh.) We'll be getting new Beaters soon . . .*evil laughter*. Guess. No really, guess.  
  
No competition this chappie! The character picked from your responses will appear shortly.  
  
Laaaaters!  
  
Wait, wait - In three weeks I'll enter summer holidays for TWO MONTHS so I'll be updating much, much, much more often!! So until then, I'll try hard to get chapters 10, 11 and 12 out. 


	10. Slapdash

Disclaimer: None of it is mine. I swear. Harry Potter and Co belong to JKR and Arisa. . .well. . .she belongs to Hexe605. Oh and. . .the purple flower? It belongs to Jumanji.  
  
Gaul1, wowsergirl, Virusgod, Giggles, Kemenran, Fiery Phoenix, halstead and Naseis: Thanks for the reviews - this story runs on it.  
  
Katani Petitedra and chibi-luv: I live in Australia, hence the upcoming summer holidays.  
  
Silver Centaur: Hm. . .well the Beaters won't be the Creevys! They're hopeless. Harry just doesn't want to tell Dumbledore about the powers because he still hasn't gotten over what the Headmaster did last year.  
  
AN: Ok! I lied! Couldn't get those three chapters out. Two days to the holidays! And THEN you'll get quicker updates. My friends are getting really annoyed that I don't. Not my fault!  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Ten: Slapdash  
  
~~~  
  
The Common Room lacked any students below fourth year while the older ones scribbled on parchment furiously. Ron, for once, appeared to be attempting his homework the night after receiving it. Most unusually, there was no sight of Hermione but Ron had pointed out that she might prefer the library. He was convinced that she was doing it so she didn't have to help them with their work.  
  
Harry had his own problems - he had essays from both Transfiguration and Potions to finish by the end of the week. Any notes he'd made on the Transaxle Transformation swam before his eyes until he put them out of sight. Just when he thought he'd go mad in the silence, though there were many others in the room, the portrait swung open and admitted two giggling girls.  
  
"What a toad!" Exclaimed Alex, gasping for breath, "Detention for a week!"  
  
Siobhan jumped into a vacated chair and sighed dramatically,  
  
"All because we failed to clean every desk in the Charms corridor within three hours."  
  
Harry looked over at them and shook his head, trying to remember what the properties of a bezoar were. It didn't surprise him that he didn't actually know what it was. He gave up on the essay as Hermione came down the staircase to the girls' dormitories, carrying the lion book distinctly, a look of concentration on her face.  
  
Ron set aside his quill and yawned,  
  
"Excellent, you can help me with - "  
  
Hermione frowned at him before he could finish the sentence and perched the lion book on top of Harry's stack of notes. Ron reached over and flicked through a few pages, looking puzzled. He pushed the book back at Harry,  
  
"You bought a book full of poems, mate."  
  
"They're not poems," Hermione corrected patiently, "They're predictions. There is a possibility that this Jarvis Trelawney has at least some connection with the fraud that teaches Divination."  
  
Harry looked through the book himself slowly. He didn't think that Professor Trelawney could have spoken any more than two prophecies, if he was inclined to believe Dumbledore. Though, why should he? The Headmaster had been wary of him without reason all of the year before. Harry turned to Ron, who was avoiding any eye contact with Hermione,  
  
"Do you remember when Umbridge asked Professor Trelawney if she was related to a Cassandra Trelawney?"  
  
"Yes. . .so?" Ron smirked as he thought back to it.  
  
"So," Hermione answered instead, "Cassandra Trelawney was a trusted seer and rarely interpreted her predictions incorrectly. This book must be fairly old. It surprises me that it turned up at Flourish and Blotts and remained there."  
  
Ron looked dubiously at her,  
  
"I thought you didn't believe in that kind of stuff."  
  
Wisely choosing not to comment, Hermione thoughtfully tucked the book under her arm and disappeared up into her dormitory. Ron waited until she was out of sight then thrust some parchment in front of Harry,  
  
"Do you know anything about the Giant Wars?"  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione arrived later than them at breakfast the next morning, looking pleased with herself. She sat down and reached for some toast,  
  
"Professor McGonagall has given us permission to use the Great Hall for DA."  
  
Ron spat out some juice,  
  
"You asked her?"  
  
"Of course," Hermione said calmly, "I expect it will be just enough room."  
  
Harry wiped Ron's mess with a serviette and said warily,  
  
"I think there'll be more than enough room for the DA in here, Hermione."  
  
Siobhan McPherson burst into the Great Hall and virtually screamed,  
  
"A Duelling Club! Cool, Harry!"  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged aggravated looks. Hermione didn't say anything, preferring to pick apart the food on her plate with apparent enthusiasm. Those in the Great Hall who had not yet read the notice looked over at the three of them in excited interest.  
  
"You invited the whole school?" Demanded Ron in disbelief.  
  
Hermione ignored him and smiled at those looking. Before any argument could take place, Harry quickly asked,  
  
"Have you found anything else about the book?"  
  
Pleased that at least he hadn't forgotten about it, Hermione pulled out the book in question. She selected a marked page and showed it to Harry triumphantly. Harry read it then looked up, puzzled. He didn't understand why she was showing him that particular prophecy.  
  
"Don't you recognise it?" Hermione said earnestly, "It's what the Sorting Hat sang at the feast."  
  
And so it was. Ron, deciding that he didn't like this train of conversation, nudged Harry in the ribs and pointed towards the Ravenclaw table,  
  
"See that tall blonde girl there? Name's Arisa Quintly. Just heard that she's been accepted as a Ravenclaw Chaser without a try out."  
  
Harry gave him a perplexed look,  
  
"And I wanted to know that because?"  
  
"You're Quidditch Captain," Ron grumbled, annoyed, "You're supposed to figure out how we knock them off their brooms."  
  
~~~  
  
Harry and Ron had just left the entrance hall to make their way down to N.E.W.T. Care of Magical Creatures when Hermione caught up to them, breathless. She waved the lion book in front of them while struggling to speak.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be going to Ancient Runes?" Ron asked, dumbfounded.  
  
Hermione said breathlessly, slamming the book into Harry's hands,  
  
"Here, take it. You'll get away with reading it."  
  
She then sprinted back into the castle and disappeared. Harry stuffed the book into his robes and rubbed his sore hands. With Ron, he walked down to Hagrid's hut where a group of students were congregated. Harry noticed, relieved, that there were no Slytherins in the class. Taking advantage of Hagrid's lateness, he opened the book to where Hermione had left a short note.  
  
She thought the prophecy had to do with him. Harry snorted. He really needed another one, sure. He scanned the prophecy slowly, trying to see what obviously Hermione saw. Her note adamantly made reference to the mark he had on his arm. Giving up, Harry tucked the book away as Hagrid appeared from behind the hut.  
  
~~~  
  
"You should tell Dumbledore," Hermione pressed the moment she saw Harry - during compulsory Charms.  
  
To Harry's annoyance, Ron didn't try to argue on his behalf. Harry was bothered by the way they kept going on about it. He was dreading the mayhem that usually accompanied Flitwick's class - Hermione and Ron would be able to send more comments his way. Just as he'd thought, Neville Longbottom (who always had some trouble or other with his wand skills), mispronounced one syllable in a basic revision of the Accio charm and watched in horror as plants sprouted from the walls, floor and ceiling.  
  
Harry was separated from Ron and Hermione by a thick forest of mandrakes. Pushing past a growling Begonia, he went floundering into Neville who had lost his grip on his wand. Harry caught him as he fell,  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"I didn't mean to!" Neville said immediately, "I thought I said it right."  
  
Harry dodged as a purple flower spat thorns at him, hissing when it missed. He kept a hold on the back of Neville's robes so that the boy wouldn't get into any more trouble,  
  
"Don't move! Flitwick'll have it fixed in no time."  
  
The stuttering of their Charms professor disagreed. A huge vine was hanging him upside down above the class. Harry sighed, remembering that his wand was at his desk - if it was still there. He just hoped no one would notice. Pushing a squirming Neville in front of him, he flicked a hand.  
  
"Move!" A voice cried and Harry realised it was his own.  
  
The plants struggled violently, but wilted into a corner. Flitwick, once again touching the ground, reversed the spell and breathlessly looked around at the speechless class. He squeaked,  
  
"Who was it that caused the plants to retreat? A worthy tactic!"  
  
But no one was holding their wands, all of which lying in various places around the room. Quietly, Harry picked up his wand and slid it into his pocket. Thus it was a confused Professor Flitwick that saw the class out. None of the students noticed that the teacher looked at each of them carefully, even with a small amount of suspicion.  
  
~~~  
  
"That was a fun revision lesson," Ron commented lightly as they ate lunch.  
  
He seemed to find it funny, but Hermione was scowling at Harry. She told him severely,  
  
"You could have at least let Professor Flitwick handle it rather than flaunt it in front of the class."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, spearing a sandwich with his fork so hard that it broke in two. Hermione opened her mouth to further discussion, but the arrival of Siobhan distracted her. Pursing her lips in a way that reminded Harry of Aunt Petunia, she poured over an Arithmancy text.  
  
"So, Harry," Siobhan beamed, "What are you teaching us tonight?"  
  
Ron said around a mouthful of food,  
  
"How to say Accio right."  
  
Siobhan gave him an odd look then went in an exuberant whoop at the sight of her cousin, Seamus, who turned to walk the way he had come as soon as he saw her. When the excited first year was out of ear shot, Hermione turned back to Harry,  
  
"You're becoming careless. Can you imagine what Voldemort would do if he heard that Harry Potter was doing wandless magic?"  
  
"Don't say that name," Gritted Ron, "Who cares if Harry's a bit slapdash*? Give You-Know-Who something to sweat about."  
  
Privately, Harry agreed.  
  
~~~  
  
That evening, Hermione found Harry in front of the fire in the deserted common room. She made an impatient sound and gestured around at the empty room,  
  
"Are you going to come down or not? The only reason everyone is there is that you lead the DA."  
  
"Yay," Harry said gloomily, but got up anyway. He smothered a yawn and picked up his wand, "Where are we again? The Great Hall was it?"  
  
Hermione was about to confirm this when Harry took a hold of her elbow and the next moment they were in the Entrance Hall. Hermione was beside herself.  
  
"Harry!" She seethed, "You don't just Apparate in plain view of everyone."  
  
The accused looked around at the empty area with a smirk,  
  
"Here I was thinking you'd say 'You can't Apparate of Disapparate in the school grounds'."  
  
Hermione did not answer. She led him into the Great Hall where at once the buzz of many students talking swamped over both of them. Harry was certain that the whole school was waiting expectantly for his arrival. Notably, Tonks was on hand. Probably in case I do something stupid, thought Harry crossly. He supposed Dumbledore put her up to it.  
  
A hush had fallen over the students and they looked at him excitedly. Harry had a sudden urge to run the opposite direction, much like Seamus did whenever Siobhan was near. He swallowed and walked up to a raised platform. Hermione would have pushed him if he hadn't. Harry had a sudden feeling of nausea and wondered if his dinner was going to jump straight back out again.  
  
"Um, hi," He managed and mentally cursed himself, "Some of you might remember the, er, Duelling Club we had some time ago and that it wasn't much help. . ."  
  
Feeling stupid, he was surprised to find that his audience was rapt. Tonks made to give him the thumbs up but decided against anything which might make her topple over. Harry cleared his throat,  
  
"Last year, I formed a group called the DA, standing for. . .uh. . .Dumbledore's Army," Someone sniggered, "And we practised some defence spells. . ."  
  
Catching Hermione's eye, he suddenly lit on an idea. Harry forced a smile to his face,  
  
"Tonight, those who were in DA last year and I will assist you with the proper usage of the Expelliarmus spell."  
  
He saw Neville go bright red as the Great Hall became a noisy din once more. Harry was not surprised to find that Malfoy and his cronies were nowhere in sight. He hopped down and went over to Hermione who had made no moves to organise anything. Harry muttered in her ear,  
  
"Tell the DA there's a meeting in the Room of Requirement afterwards."  
  
Hermione nodded and was lost in a sea of people. He then sought Tonks, who was standing flat against one wall and plainly hoping to be invisible.  
  
"Come on," Harry persisted, "We need some adult influence."  
  
Tonks pushed up a mop of brown hair,  
  
"More like comic relief."  
  
Harry weaved through students turning their wands on each other under at least some supervision. After he dodged a second wayward blast, he decided that things were getting out of hand. He tried shouting, but this drove him hoarse.  
  
"Sonorous," He muttered then shouted without much effort, "STOP!"  
  
Jumping back onto the platform, Harry proceeded to explain that to work, the wand must be pointed*at* the intended person and that it be pronounced properly. Before he knew it, the hour was up and he heaved a sigh of relief. Watching the students forward out, Harry got down off the platform and made his way along the corridors to the Room of Requirement.  
  
~~~  
  
AN: Sorry to end it there - but I might have had Writer's Block if I didn't.  
  
Whew.  
  
Next chapter we'll get a glimpse of the new Beaters and we find out why Flitwick is acting all shifty.  
  
***Oh yeah, slapdash means a manner of things including: sloppy, messy, clumsy, careless, haphazard and shoddy. 


	11. Levitating Beaters

Disclaimer: I lost the paper clips, so I guess nothing belongs to me anymore. Harry Potter to J.K.R. and Arisa Quintly to Hexe605.  
  
The Mystical Elf, Kemenran, Yana5, Katani Petitedra, Fiery Phoenix, gaineewop, gaul1, wowsergirl, giggles, Voldie On Varsity Track, Prd2bAmerican18, LittleEar BigEar's sis, Naseis: Thankyou for the reviews!  
  
Hexe605: You're the only one who mentioned Flitwick in your review! *hands over a sherbet lemon* We're about to find out what he has to do with the plot.  
  
Jaximillion: For plot reasons, Harry won't tell Dumbledore until later. . .  
  
Voldie On Varsity Track: Second mention - I love compliments in capitals! Yay!  
  
106 REVIEWS!!!!! OMG, OMG, OMG! I love you guys!! As I passed the century, I will be doing something special. . .which I haven't figured out yet.  
  
To celebrate, of course.  
  
So sorry for not updating sooner, but I was stuck in a different writing style which would have wrecked this. (I doubt you'd want Yoda flying into N.E.W.T. Charms or paranoid androids running loose).  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Eleven: Levitating Beaters  
  
~~~  
  
Harry pushed the door open into the Room of Requirement. The DA had assembled there, talking quietly amongst themselves. As soon as he entered, Hermione turned expectantly to him as if expecting something. But it had been her idea, Harry thought irritably. Why didn't she start making the speeches? Whatever she expected, she wasn't going to get it.  
  
Nerves stretched from the time spent with a crowd in the Great Hall, Harry forced a smile to his face and said something he'd usually leave to Hermione to say,  
  
"Even if the school can perform the Expelliarmus spell, I don't think it will work against the Unforgivables. . . so, I guess we'll continue going through stuff. If you'd just prefer to learn whatever Professor Tonks is teaching, fine."  
  
"I'm willing to continue the DA," Hermione immediately assented.  
  
The others looked at each other, undecided. Finally, taking the lead of Neville and Ron, they agreed to remain banded within the DA. Harry, after waiting for everyone to decide, sat down on a cushioned chair near the door,  
  
"Uh, now that's sorted we can - "  
  
He was interrupted by the door banging off the wall so hard that it nearly splintered. Siobhan and Alex catapulted into the room and beamed at Harry. Ron expelled a loud groan; Seamus avoided eye contact with his cousin all together. Hermione bristled,  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"We want to join the DA!" Siobhan said brightly, "And we knew you guys would be here."  
  
Harry suppressed the glare he wished to throw at them as words tumbled out of his mouth in his surprise,  
  
"How did you know? I thought we were discreet enough not to be followed."  
  
Seamus coughed, looking ashamed. Alex pointed at him,  
  
"He told us! Well, he wouldn't at first so Siobhan threatened him with her wand."  
  
"You gave in to a couple of first years?" Ron snorted in disbelief.  
  
Seamus looked around at the members of the DA pleadingly while Siobhan and Alex giggled helplessly. There was no escaping the stern look Hermione was giving him or the sniggers that Ron had given in to. Seamus muttered,  
  
"You don't know what it's like, being threatened by them. It was more frightening than Snape."  
  
A chocolate sundae suddenly appeared in mid air in the middle of the assembly. Siobhan dove for it, exclaiming happily,  
  
"Just what I wanted!"  
  
She missed and landed on her stomach. She rolled over, whipping out her wand and aiming it upwards at the sundae. Seamus moved out of the way just as the dessert exploded, sending ice cream and slithers of several different toppings all over the DA. Dripping, Harry wiped off his face with the sleeve of his robe.  
  
"I see where you're coming from," Ron admitted to Seamus, "I'd be scared too."  
  
Hermione made a disgusted sound in her throat and cleaned herself up with a quick charm. She crossed her arms and eyed the two troublesome girls,  
  
"It would do us great service if you would kindly leave."  
  
Siobhan sucked on a chocolate covered finger indifferently for a moment,  
  
"We might tell everyone that you're down here. . .unless you let us join."  
  
"Yeah!" Agreed Alex enthusiastically, face almost completely white from ice cream.  
  
A pained expression came across Harry's face. He was sure that they wouldn't get into any trouble with Dumbledore - the Headmaster seemed to know everything that went on the castle. But then, he didn't know about the powers Harry had gotten and he didn't need to know. Harry looked down at Siobhan (who was swinging her wand lazily) and shrugged at the DA,  
  
"What has more harm - letting them join the DA or having them tell everyone where we meet?"  
  
"Your call, mate," Ron said hastily as Harry shot him a desperate look.  
  
Harry knew he was going to regret his words. He decided,  
  
"It's less harm having them in the DA, don't you think? Imagine what the Slytherins would do if they got a hold of this room."  
  
~~~  
  
Harry woke with a splitting head ache and he blamed it on the previous night. Staring at the ceiling of his dormitory, he listened to the sluggish sounds penetrating the curtains around his four poster. He conjured a glass of water and consumed it greedily. The glass drained, he ripped open his curtains and reached over to his bedside table for his robes.  
  
Harry blinked away the white spots dancing in front of his eyes, seriously considering a trip to the hospital wing. Blindly, he crashed into his trunk and went flying head first in to Ron who'd just stepped into the room.  
  
"Blimey, Harry," Ron looked down at him, "Class starts in ten minutes."  
  
Harry shot at him,  
  
"Then why are you up here?"  
  
Ron bent over and helped him to his feet,  
  
"Hermione sent me."  
  
Harry straightened his robe and stuck his wand in his pocket. He shot a quick look at his timetable then took a hold of Ron. Barely a moment later, they had arrived at the green houses for Herbology. Ron muttered aside to Harry,  
  
"I actually have to do well in this class. I don't have many N.E.W.T. classes."  
  
"There should be no problem," Harry commented slyly, "Especially since Hermione is in this class and will give you personal one on one tutoring."  
  
Ron's ears went red.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry barely ate anything at lunch and managed to convince Hermione that he had left his N.E.W.T. Transfiguration essay under his bed so that she wouldn't worry if he was late. He felt terrible as he climbed the marble staircase and fumbled his way to the classroom. He'd barely gotten halfway down the corridor when he walked straight into Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in my class, Mr Potter?" She asked sternly.  
  
Harry blinked at her through the spots in his vision,  
  
"Um, shouldn't you? Class started ten minutes ago."  
  
McGonagall eyed him beadily through her spectacles, looking to Harry as if she was deciding if his answer was impertinent or not. She crossed her arms carefully,  
  
"Miss Granger expressed a concern for your ability to make it to class."  
  
Harry groaned loudly. He hadn't been able to fool Hermione at all. Catching the worry which flittered in his Head of House's frown, he supposed he wasn't going to get into too much trouble. He didn't flinch when McGonagall pressed a hand to his forehead.  
  
"You're burning up," She told him firmly, "The hospital wing is in the other direction."  
  
Harry was about to retort that he was just fine when a piercing scream bounced down the corridor. Both student and professor went racing off in the direction from where it came. In his mind, Harry was quickly running through all the spells he'd learnt and wondering what evil had befallen Hogwarts already.  
  
The screaming was coming from a Charms class room and when Harry first burst in, he wasn't sure what to think. Everything in the room was airborne, including Professor Flitwick who was struggling to reach his levitating wand a few feet to the side. But sitting calmly on flying tables in the middle of the chaos were Siobhan McPherson and Alexandra Chambers, both beaming proudly.  
  
"Oh, hi Harry!" Siobhan waved her wand at the new comers, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
Alex echoed her and both Harry and McGonagall floated off the ground. Harry smiled weakly in return and looked around the classroom helplessly as the girls then summoned his wand. The one thought that struck him particularly was that they could do it better than Neville. He wondered where they had learnt it.  
  
Professor McGonagall's lips thinned,  
  
"They're really quite intelligent, despite appearances. It's not that they don't have any brains, it's just that they don't use them. I fear they may become the new Weasley twins."  
  
Remembering the roped off patch of swamp left in one of the corridors, Harry's smile became wider. When he looked again at struggling Flitwick, he flicked a finger and everything thudded back onto the floor. Scowling, Siobhan shook her traitorous wand. McGonagall immediately turned to Harry,  
  
"They need to focus their energy elsewhere, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
"Definitely," Harry muttered, thinking of his regret over letting them join the DA.  
  
McGonagall dusted herself off,  
  
"I heard you have two vacancies for Beaters on your Quidditch team."  
  
Harry's eyes widened in horror. In his mind's eye he could see the pair of them hacking brooms to pieces with Beater clubs. He opened his mouth to argue but the Transfiguration teacher raised a hand,  
  
"I'll ask you politely for now, but I expect them to be on the team by the end of next week so you may commence training."  
  
Harry despairingly picked up his wand from the ground. His headache had worsened in the last minute and those terrors were being entrusted to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Things just couldn't get any worse. He followed McGonagall to Transfiguration and was grateful that his health had been forgotten in the light of Siobhan and Alex.  
  
~~~  
  
"Harry!" Hermione hissed as everyone packed up their books and made for the door, "You look terrible."  
  
He did feel terrible - but he supposed it was nothing he couldn't fix with a flick of the finger. He resolved to try in N.E.W.T. Charms. Slinging his bag on his shoulder, Harry forwarded out of the classroom in front of Hermione, trying to ignore her fussing. She was probably going to gang up with Ron in Charms on the subject but he couldn't be bothered to listen to her nagging for now.  
  
N.E.W.T. Charms was by far the most taken advanced class across the year. Ron waved them over to a desk and they set out their books. Harry noted that the classroom was again clean and bore no signs that it had been in the wake of Siobhan and Alex. Professor Flitwick still looked flustered as he took them through slightly more advanced Charms than the compulsory class.  
  
Right when he was explaining the differences between a large and small spell, Harry's headache drove back in full force. To top it off, his scar exploded with pain as well. Barely hearing the instructions, he tried to join in with the practise, but his wand dropped from his fingers. Clenching his fingers this way and that he willed the aches to go away.  
  
Dimly, he heard something smash. As soon as it had, his vision cleared and he was able to think properly. Harry looked over at the smashed window, remarking casually,  
  
"That was strange."  
  
Hermione shot him a severe glare.  
  
"Mate," Ron leant in closer, "Do you really have to aggravate her like that?"  
  
Harry laughed but even to him it sounded stiff. He nudged the red bead in front of him with a finger and muttered under his breath,  
  
"Engorgio!"  
  
The bead grew to the size of a juggle ball and Ron just shook his head. Harry looked at his two best friends for a moment and shrugged. He needed a bit of fun every now and then, what with the stupid prophecy hanging over his head and Hermione's constant research and nagging about his powers. No one would notice the wandless magic.  
  
Suddenly, Harry's headache returned in full force. He rested his head in one hand and tried to get rid of it again. This time, several beads started shaking and vibrating furiously. Harry saw this and stopped what he was doing immediately. The beads lay quiet. He cursed mentally - things were happening out of his control.  
  
Hermione put a hand on his arm and squeezed, looking cross but concerned. Harry nodded his thanks at her and hastily packed up when Flitwick announced the end of the lesson. Most of the class had left already and Ron and Hermione were making moves to leave as well.  
  
"Mr Potter, would you mind staying after class for a moment?" Squeaked the Charms professor.  
  
Harry paused uncertainly near the door and so did Hermione. Ron slowed just outside; obviously the only thing on his mind was dinner. Flitwick waved a hand jovially,  
  
"It's nothing too serious, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. You'll have him back in a few minutes."  
  
Ron and Hermione traded dubious looks but left the room and were heard walking down the empty corridor outside. Harry turned to Flitwick,  
  
"Is it about my grades from last year or something? I don't think I did too badly, Professor."  
  
"Nothing of the sort," Flitwick's face had gone deadly serious even though he spoke lightly, "Mr Potter, I am just having a guess, but is your wandless magic related to any sort of mark on your arm?"  
  
~~~  
  
Now HOW did he know that? Mwhahaha.  
  
I am thinking of how to treat you all seeings as I do have 106 reviews.  
  
Still thinking.  
  
Laaaaters! 


	12. The Lion and the Badger

Disclaimer: Read previous and the one before and the one before the one before that and the one. . .  
  
Smat, Kemenran, Jeff, ss, Prd2bAmerican18, solar, Nymph of the Uruwera: What would I do without your reviews?  
  
Byron245: Hm. . .that would do nicely.  
  
Foodiholic: Flitwick? Evil? Non!  
  
HongMing, LittleEar BigEar's sis, Squirrelface RAE, Yana5: I don't usually like writing cliffies but it just came out like that. . . evil indeed. :)  
  
athenakitty: Interesting reviews? Lots of question marks?  
  
Katani Petitedra: I chose Flitwick because of that. Go Flitwick!!  
  
Hexe605: Of course they're scary. I know the people they were modelled on! The headache thing is explained at the end of the chapter.  
  
KOOL JU: Welcome to fanfiction! I'm glad you liked my story! :)  
  
I have decided to celebrate zooming past eleventy (that is, 111) reviews with a quicker update (thankyou very much wowsergirl for that suggestion). Snazzy, huh? You know, I am existing on an appetite of Harry Potter books and story ideas at the moment.  
  
At some point, you may need to refer back to the prophecy in chapter one if it confuses you.  
  
NB: I have changed any mistakes which some angry reviewers mowed me down with. :(  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Twelve: The Lion and the Badger  
  
~~~  
  
"W-What are you talking about?" Stammered Harry.  
  
Maybe he had misheard Flitwick. But no, the Professor was staring right at him, squeaking with more dignity than Harry had thought possible,  
  
"Don't be coy, Mr Potter, I've seen you at it. I believe you turned sixteen in the holidays, am I right? That was when the changes would have occurred."  
  
Harry stared at him. How could he have been so careless? Hermione had been right - again, he thought petulantly - and someone had seen him. But it wasn't just that. How had Flitwick known about the mark on his arm? Unconsciously rubbing the spot, he blurted,  
  
"But - how do you know?"  
  
"Not too long ago," Flitwick began breathlessly, "One of my students began showing prowess in an ability to read minds and communicate mentally after his sixteenth birthday. I wouldn't have noticed it, but he came to me."  
  
Harry wondered where this was going. It sounded fairly ordinary to him and not having the slightest relation to wandless magic. Flitwick enquired curiously,  
  
"Do you know what Helga Hufflepuff was famous for, Mr Potter?"  
  
Harry mutely shook his head, but he had an idea.  
  
"Empathy with the human mind," Flitwick informed him, "No doubt you heard the Sorting Hat's song at the feast - it was one I researched in regards to that student. It mentioned the houses as the animals that led them. Now be honest with me - do you have the mark of a lion on your arm?"  
  
There was silence. Harry had focused on the grounds outside, trying to get his mind around what the Charms teacher was telling him. Part of him wanted to back away slowly, something Ron would have done. But the other part of him was intrigued. He cleared his throat impatiently,  
  
"Yes, but I don't see why it's important."  
  
Flitwick looked very seriously at him,  
  
"Mr Potter, Godric Gryffindor was known for his abilities in the field of wandless magic. Do you not understand that the lion mark on your arm represents his powers?"  
  
"No," Harry replied stubbornly, turning towards the door as his stomach reminded him that he was missing dinner.  
  
Flitwick made an exasperated noise and demanded,  
  
"Did you not listen to what the Sorting Hat said? It was a prophecy predicted by Cassandra Trelawney. Do I have to explain it line by line, Mr Potter? 'Once again the four will rise' - the most famous foursome were the Hogwarts founders meaning it could only be them. It refers to four animals, each representing the houses."  
  
Needless to say, this was arousing some memories in Harry's brain. He muttered,  
  
"Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin."  
  
"Precisely, Mr Potter!" The short Professor affirmed, though winced at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, "'The serpent will choose to stem or create' - He Who Must Not Be Named has great power and used it for evil. It is unfortunate that 'The badger will crawl only little' came to pass."  
  
Harry had forgotten completely about his complaining stomach now. It was all starting to make sense. He frowned,  
  
"Professor, does that mean that the Hufflepuff person died?"  
  
Flitwick nodded sombrely,  
  
"Mr Cedric Diggory passed, as you yourself know. He was still learning about his powers and there's no wondering why he was the school champion."  
  
"Why did he go to you?" Harry asked, confused, "Surely Dumbledore would have been better to approach about something like that?"  
  
The Charms professor smiled at him genially,  
  
"Have you gone to the Headmaster about your wandless magic?"  
  
He had a point, Harry conceded. Flitwick climbed onto his stack of books and made himself comfortable,  
  
"Perhaps Mr Diggory sensed something different in me. I wondered about it. There is another part of the prophecy - 'Yet needed are the guardians, those that are the wise'. I know little about these guardians, but they must aid the heirs in some way. When I attended Hogwarts, I was in Ravenclaw, but only by choice. The Sorting Hat had originally chosen me for Hufflepuff. Perhaps I was assigned to Mr Diggory. You may end up finding your guardian."  
  
Harry rubbed his forehead, some of his headache coming back. He felt like a saturated sponge, incapable of consuming any more of the information. This time when he moved towards the door, Flitwick didn't try to stop him.  
  
"Heirs, you say," Harry said tiredly, feeling his headache increase, "I'm Godric Gryffindor's heir and there is someone out there who I can go to for help called a guardian. This year couldn't get any better."  
  
~~~  
  
He arrived very late to dinner and some students were already leaving. Seeing him, Hermione waved him over insistently. She asked him in a concerned voice what Flitwick had wanted to talk about. Ron was too busy trying to chew down his chicken to add any input to the conversation.  
  
"He knows about the wandless magic and the lion mark," Harry said in a low voice, "Flitwick has this idea that I'm the heir of Gryffindor."  
  
Ron started choking on his food and had to drink a whole goblet of Pumpkin Juice. Hermione asked keenly, eyes lighting up,  
  
"How did he know? Oh, I thought it might have been to do with the Transaxle Transformation."  
  
Harry swallowed a mouthful of food, hoping to avoid the way in which Ron chose to speak at the table,  
  
"Apparently Cedric Diggory, who was the Hufflepuff heir, confided in him. Flitwick looked into it and found a prophecy. I think the Sorting Hat sang it and probably why it's in the book I bought."  
  
"Yes, that makes sense," Hermione said absently.  
  
Ron snorted with laughter and immediately started coughing. Hermione scowled at him, but he waved a hand dismissively at her. He followed Harry's lead and managed to swallow the chicken before sniggering,  
  
"Can you imagine Diggory with a badger tattoo on him? Of all the animals it could have been. . ."  
  
Harry started laughing also, but it sounded hollow even to him. Hermione dropped her cutlery, looking cross, but she didn't say anything.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry woke suddenly and was blinded by the moonlight streaming in the window. He could hear an odd rattling sound, unevenly echoing through the room. Ron was sitting up in bed, curtains open and listening with a frown on his face. Harry mumbled,  
  
"Wherezat coming from?"  
  
"Don't know," Ron said quietly, "But I think it's coming from your trunk."  
  
Harry scrambled out of bed,  
  
"It's probably the Sneakoscope. Hang on - I'll stuff into something."  
  
He pulled open his trunk and started rifling through it. He gently pushed aside the mirror Sirius had given him and his father's Invisibility Cloak, groping down further until he found the Sneakoscope, wrapped carefully in a disgusting pair of Uncle Vernon's socks. Harry listened for a moment, realising everything had gone quiet.  
  
"Go back to sleep, Ron," He yawned, "It was the Sneakoscope."  
  
He threw himself back against his pillow and resolved to take some of his own advice.  
  
~~~  
  
The next morning at breakfast, a barn owl came swooping low towards the Gryffindor table. It was carrying a brilliantly coloured letter and soon attracted the attention of everyone in the Great Hall. To everyone's surprise, it landed in front of Hermione who opened it without a second thought. She blushed when she'd read it and Ron snatched it up.  
  
"Ooh, a love letter from Vicky," He waved it in front of her, "He wrote 'love, Viktor'."  
  
Hermione reached for the letter, saying coolly,  
  
"That's purely a platonic 'love'."  
  
Even though he was sneering, Ron's face was quickly catching up to his hair. Harry watched them, amused, even if a little frustrated that it might turn out into another rift. Hedwig landed in front of him, knocking cereal all over the table. Bemused, Harry ripped open the letter she was holding and found a piece of blank parchment.  
  
"That was worth delivering," He muttered sarcastically.  
  
Ron noticed him staring non-plussed at the parchment and said,  
  
"What's eating you?"  
  
Slowly, long green calligraphy lettering appeared on the letter, the first thing clear enough to discern was the Dark Mark signing it. Harry dropped it onto his plate as if it burnt him and managed in a constricted voice,  
  
"Would you stop bickering and come outside?"  
  
Hermione was affronted at first, but when she saw the look on Harry's face she grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him brusquely towards the doors of the Great Hall. Once out of ear shot of any stragglers, Harry showed them the note which had one single line:  
  
Happy Early Halloween, Harry Potter.  
  
A large swooping inside the hall signalled the arrival of a great number of owls. Hermione went pale and quickly unfolded her unread Daily Prophet. On the front page was the headline, announcing that there had been an attack.  
  
~~~  
  
"I should have known!" Harry said furiously as he stabbed his quill so vigorously that it broke, "My scar should have hurt, I should have had a dream - something!"  
  
Classes had been cancelled for the day and there was too much racket in the Common Room to suit Harry's temper. It was fortunate that his headache had subsided completely. He looked down at what he was writing in disgust and lobbed it out the window, as the fireplace was crowded around to get a clear shot. Hermione reasoned gently,  
  
"It's not your fault. It's. . ."  
  
She trailed off helplessly. Harry looked straight at her,  
  
"It's not my fault that Ernie Macmillan is now an orphan when I could have seen it and stopped it? It's not my fault that Ron lost an uncle?"  
  
"Hey, I never liked him anyway," Ron shrugged indifferently.  
  
Hermione shot him a you're-not-helping look. The attack on a busy wizarding town (which included some Muggles) had been something of a shock to the students at Hogwarts. Harry glared without seeing out the window, going through what would have happened had he known about it. He could have stopped it, even if people had seen the wandless magic.  
  
The prophecy about him being the only one to kill Voldemort made sense in a bizarre way suddenly. Of course, Harry thought sarcastically, the heir of Slytherin against the heir of Gryffindor. He still doubted the sanity of Professor Flitwick and seriously thought of pitting him with Professor Trelawney on the "weird" list.  
  
Harry got his feet and wound his way through unusually quiet students, disappearing up the staircase. Gratefully, he heard Hermione mutter to Ron,  
  
"Leave him."  
  
Harry paced the empty dormitory, angrily kneading his forehead with his knuckles. He wanted to do something! The inactiveness was driving him mad. If he'd gone there and tried to save them. . .his vision swam as he remembered his "love of playing the hero". So what if his friends thought he'd make a mess of things? It wasn't his fault Sirius had gone out of hiding. . .but it was Harry he'd gone after.  
  
Frustrated, Harry pulled out some parchment and his quill. Furiously, he wrote in almost desperation:  
  
Dear Sirius,  
  
I hate doing nothing while people die. I could have stopped it! To hell with school - I'm going to go straight to Voldemort and kill him. But death's too good for him. He should suffer every curse at my hands before I finally kill him. I want him to hear his own screams.  
  
Harry  
  
He scrunched the letter into a wad and threw it onto his bed. He was going to carry out his words, make Voldemort suffer. Harry dug through his trunk and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. He dove under his bed to get his recently returned Firebolt but came across something smaller. Startled, he summoned light and looked at it.  
  
It was a headless, armless and legless figurine torso, dusty and coloured in the Bulgaria Quidditch team colours. Ron had obviously moved on from just one arm. Harry's throat tightened. How would Ron and Hermione react?  
  
~~~  
  
Harry strode past his friends in the Common Room and tacked up a notice. With a flourish, he gave it a Sticking Charm and dusted his hands off. Receiving odd looks from the quiet Gryffindors in the room, he announced,  
  
"Quidditch practice on Saturday morning."  
  
Ron gave whoop. Harry looked across and caught Hermione's eyes. She smiled, relieved. Maybe she had guessed what he'd wanted to do. Maybe she'd hoped that he wouldn't leave. She didn't need to worry. Harry was fairly certain he needed to learn a few more spells before he took on any Death Eaters, let alone Voldemort.  
  
And the DA shouldn't be taught for nothing.  
  
~~~  
  
Extra Author's Notes  
  
Flitwick rules.  
  
Anyway, for those who are confused:  
  
Harry is getting headaches and it is related to his wandless magic. When he doesn't use it, he doesn't get headaches. We'll find out more later.  
  
Cedric Diggory was the Hufflepuff heir, savvy? He was an empathist and mind reader guy but never used it much because he thought that was cheating. And he did have a badger mark *sniggers* (thankyou for pointing that out, Ron). The guardian thing is kinda hard but anyways. . .Flitwick was in RAVENCLAW but he was meant to be in Hufflepuff and is/was Cedric's guardian. It's basically a position of counsel and magical back up.  
  
So by now you'll realise that Harry is Gryffindor's heir! Hehe. I'm not telling you who his guardian is so guess. :P  
  
Again, this quick post was a gift of passing eleventy AND 125 in reviews.  
  
Laaaaters! 


	13. Quidditch Causes Headaches

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and Arisa Quintly belongs to Hexe605. So. . .what does that leave me?  
  
AN: I only just realised that Alicia Spinnet was in the same year as Angelina Johnson and have corrected that accordingly in chapter eight. Also, I've changed the previous chapter so that Flitwick was in Ravenclaw, but the Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Hufflepuff. So why does that make Harry the Gryffindor heir if the hat wanted him in Slytherin? You'll just have to read won't you?  
  
Foodiholic: I did wonder whether to make Flitwick shifty or not. . .lol  
  
Hayden,starwarsgod, Little Ear Big Ear's sis, Dragon21, Rocky 235, athenakitty, Kemenran, jenbachand, Katani Petitedra, Fiery Phoenix, goldensnitch3, RainOwl, Lady Phoenix Slytherin, Prd2bAmerican18, ironic- humour, Corrie and pug230, Julie Lanister: Thankyou for reviews; you know they're good for me and you so keep on reading, I love you guys!  
  
Lady Fortune, Aggiebell, SilverNight7, Hexe605, David M. Potter, Naseis and chibi-luv (in particular!): As to Harry's guardian and the heir of Ravenclaw? That's strictly a need to know basis. . .lol  
  
Melanie: Thanks so much! *takes certificate and hands over Chocolate Frog*  
  
Mikee: I might add some more of Snivellus in, now that you mention it!  
  
Ronin-griever: Most of the time I hate flamers. They give me severe Writer's Block so maybe the readers can blame you. Anyway, I don't usually say this but - thanks for pointing it out. You could have been a tad nicer, though.  
  
SmacksKiller: See above! But you were nicer so I'll give you a smiley :)  
  
Giggles, hids and lemon gelato: Hey guys! How you hanging? Yes, Sorting Hat Killer, I finally got a chappie out :P so you can't complain. Hids, *shh* others here aren't on the inside. Giggles, dude, keep on reading. I know you hate the pairing I have in mind, but hey, not many people do that one.  
  
Apologetic AN: Sorry for the long wait. Again, sci-fi was threatening to break into this piece so I vented it into vincentventresca.net. *wink*  
  
Pairing AN: I've decided not to make Cho a 8!tch but she's not going to get Harry!  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Thirteen: Quidditch Causes Headaches  
  
~~~  
  
"Uh. . .Harry?" Ron asked cautiously.  
  
Harry looked up from the defence book he was reading. Ron continued doggedly,  
  
"Mate, how are we supposed to have Quidditch practice when we don't have a Chaser or Beaters?"  
  
This was not a recent thought of Harry's and he put aside his book. It was Friday night, the only time he could possibly do homework over the weekend, and he didn't feel much like dropping behind like he had last year. It took only a moment for Harry to reach his decision,  
  
"Make it a try out time then. Midday."  
  
He turned back to his book and only a few moments later, realised Ron was still looking at him uncertainly. Harry raised his eyebrows and his friend shrugged, walking back down to the Common Room where Hermione was waiting, no doubt. At last left alone in the sixth year boys' dormitory, Harry took some notes for his next DA meeting, a quill was whizzing on parchment beside him.  
  
He had sincerely meant to do some homework, but one look at the vacant mirror in his trunk had sent him off thinking about Voldemort. How could he think about homework or even Flitwick if his thoughts were plagued with the death of Sirius? Harry dropped his book and walked over to the window looking out over the grounds.  
  
Rubbing his throbbing forehead, he poured some water out of the jug on the windowsill. Was it his imagination, or were there unusual shadows moving down there? Harry turned and made a start to his homework.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry went to breakfast later than everyone else, something of a habit for him now. Hermione concernedly pushed food onto his plate, asking briskly after his health. Ron was entertaining a bunch of second years who were enthralled with his rendition of the Quidditch final last year.  
  
"He has talked of nothing else since last night," Hermione said irritably, seeing where Harry was looking.  
  
Ron wound up his discussion and turned to Harry,  
  
"Do you think we should have the Chaser tryout before the Beater one? Which is better do you think?"  
  
"About the Beaters. . ." Harry began, but was cut short as Siobhan and Alex thundered in, waving pieces of toast and their wands. They were giggling madly, immediately a sign that some sort of chaos had taken place in the castle.  
  
Harry waited expectantly for the professor that would soon follow. However, it was Filch the caretaker that stomped into the room and shot the girls a withering glare. At first he didn't see what had incensed the squib so much, but then noticed Mrs Norris meekly hiding around Filch's ankles. Bright pink, the cat was only able to blow bubbles the size of footballs.  
  
"Brilliant," Ron said, awed, "They jinxed the cat."  
  
Siobhan and Alex's gales of laughter were not the only sounds. A great number of students had begun clapping and cheering. Harry found himself looking at the staff table, being given a reproachful eye by Professor McGonagall. Meanwhile, Filch was almost popping a vein and saying wildly,  
  
"I'll hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for days! I'll have you hung, drawn and quartered - "  
  
Dumbledore got to his feet, a twinkle in his blue eyes,  
  
"Argus, calm yourself. Their Head of House will deal with them accordingly."  
  
Siobhan performed a sweeping bow to her audience before following McGonagall out of the hall with Alex, who wiped her glasses on the back of someone's robe. Filch shot them a look full of loathing before seeking out the removal of the spell on his cat. Ron turned back to Harry,  
  
"What were you saying about Beaters?"  
  
"Nevermind," Harry muttered.  
  
~~~  
  
Broom over his shoulder, Harry left the change rooms with a settled feeling of dread. Already the Creevey brothers had managed to snap a school broom clean in half and to his even further discomfit, Siobhan and Alex had escaped McGonagall and arrived with identical expressions of keen interest. Harry looked at them dispiritedly, stalling for time before he had to tell Ron about the girls.  
  
Ron skidded in front of him,  
  
"Your call, mate - Beaters or the Chaser first?"  
  
"I've already got Beaters," Harry said in a rush.  
  
"What?" Ron stared at him, blinking, "You didn't consult the team."  
  
There was a slight flush creeping up the red head's neck. Harry shifted his broom to the other shoulder,  
  
"McGonagall made the decision - I couldn't do anything."  
  
Ron seemed to have difficulty in speaking,  
  
"And who did she choose?"  
  
Harry pointed at Siobhan and Alex, who were dive bombing a small crowd of Gryffindors. Ron's face worked furiously for a moment. There was a deathly silence, punctured only by the screams of the girls' victims.  
  
"You let her?" Exploded Ron with the force of a bomb, "First it's the DA then you just have to act the good little boy and let them on the team! You're almost as bad as Hermione. . ."  
  
Sensing another bitter fight on the horizon, Harry was about to argue in his defence when Ron went oddly quiet. His face was a brilliant red and he was mouthing wordlessly, shaking with rage. Harry wheeled around and saw what was causing the trouble. A group of Ravenclaw students had collected at the base of the stands and were watching the would-be Quidditch players warming up on their brooms.  
  
Ron prodded Harry's chest with his finger,  
  
"I'm not finished with you. Oi!" He turned to the spies, "Get lost - we booked the pitch for today."  
  
Harry wasn't surprised to find that he felt nothing upon looking at Cho Chang. She hadn't turned up at DA and privately he was relieved. Last year had been something of a disaster for his love life and he didn't much feel like confronting her about it at all. Cho was flanked by the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and appeared very aloof at the negative attention she was receiving.  
  
"We're only watching," The quiet girl Ron had pointed out as Arisa Quintly said softly.  
  
Ron couldn't seem to decide who to glare at as he went from face to face of the team,  
  
"Spying, you mean. So Chang's entire inner circle got on the Quidditch team. They might be good with gossip, but they'll be dropping off their brooms like flies."  
  
Two red spots appeared on Cho's cheeks and she looked meaningfully at Harry,  
  
"I came to wish you good luck this season."  
  
There was an odd sort of flutter in Harry's stomach, but it was very small. Ron had made it clear to Harry that she had scraped off Michael Corner and started dating a Hufflepuff seventh year. Ron reckoned she was still hung up about Cedric if she was that desperate.  
  
"Thanks," Harry quickly shot off a Silencing Charm to Ron, "You're welcome to stay, but there are some who might not want you here."  
  
Cho remarked dryly with a look at fuming Ron,  
  
"I can't imagine who. I'll see you round, Harry."  
  
While the Ravenclaw mob started walking back up to the castle, Marietta Edgecombe made to pull out her wand but Harry, seeing this, gave it a mental nudge. She immediately doubled over with laughter until Harry released the Tickling Charm. Marietta chased briskly after the rest of her friends while Ron sniggered.  
  
"This wandless magic stuff is useful, isn't it?" Ron commented, then scowled as he remembered the banter he was having with Harry before, "I can't believe we're going to play with those two girls. They're a nightmare."  
  
Harry watched Siobhan perform a pirouette on her broom,  
  
"I second that, mate."  
  
~~~  
  
"It's like last year all over again," Ron groaned as a would-be Chaser dropped the ball and slid off the front of their broom.  
  
Harry tried to keep an open mind, but each new contender was just as bad as the previous one. He had let the Beater try outs go ahead in an attempt to appear fair, but it didn't help that Ron would hold a quiet commentary every time he passed on his broom on how Siobhan and Alex would have added some sort of catastrophe. It grew steadily worse.  
  
The Creevey brothers had not improved in trying to connect club with ball, but seemed more able to stop from landing on the ground. It surprised Harry that Siobhan and Alex were more than capable of hitting the Bludgers in the right direction.  
  
Harry waited until the hopeful Gryffindor had landed on the pitch before he called the team into the changing rooms for suggestions. There didn't seem to be much he could do by way of choice at the moment.  
  
"Hey, Harry!" Katie Bell swooped on her broom to stop him from dismounting, "My friend just wants to try out. It that ok?" She lowered her voice, "She's very good."  
  
Harry sighed, but one look at Katie's excited friend changed his mind. He asked Katie,  
  
"What's her name?"  
  
Katie smiled nervously as her friend struggled to mount the broom,  
  
"Rorianna. Her twin brother, Rory, is in the Ravenclaw team. I think it runs in the family."  
  
Harry took off into the air again, narrowly avoiding clipping Ginny who was flying circles around the Quidditch hoops. She nearly hit him with the Beater's club she was holding and used some colourful language that Mrs Weasley would have scolded her for. Harry discreetly used some wandless magic to sit himself cross legged on his broom.  
  
Below, Rorianna rose dizzily and appeared to be attempting a graceful turn. Ron flew past, making an odd snorting sound, half way between laughter and disgust. Katie coaxed her friend into a run at the goals which Ron wasn't even making an effort in guarding.  
  
As soon as the Quaffle touched her fingers, Rorianna put on a burst of speed and shot off towards the hoops, passing one on one with Katie. Becoming only a blur, Rorianna dropped the ball onto her foot and gave it a good solid kick past Ron's ear. The movement through the air as a result knocked Ron forwards off his broom and into an undignified plummet.  
  
Without thinking, Harry swung a leg over his broom for balance and stretched out his arm. At first nothing happened, but he squinted his eyes harder with concentration. Finally, he was able to catch Ron in a spell to slow his fall, bringing his friend to a comfortable stop a foot above the ground. Ron's drifting broom sprang into Harry's hand and he joined the rest of the flyers in dropping to the pitch.  
  
"My life flashed before my eyes. . ." Ron was saying distantly.  
  
Hermione had run out onto the pitch and was biting her lip anxiously. Harry gave her an odd look,  
  
"I thought you were in the library."  
  
She didn't seem to hear him as she fussed over Ron. Smiling to himself, Harry wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his robes. He didn't understand why the spell hadn't taken effect earlier in Ron's plunge. Turning to Katie who was standing off to the side, Harry asked quietly,  
  
"What do you think? Rorianna was pretty good."  
  
"Oh, fantastic!" Katie beamed, "She'll be so pleased. Who're the Beaters?"  
  
Ginny appeared next to her and crossed her arms,  
  
"I thought this was supposed to be a team thing."  
  
Harry's head began pounding. He managed in a distracted voice,  
  
"Let's face it. We're not going to get any better. Siobhan and Alex can be the Beaters."  
  
Whatever they had to say to that, Harry couldn't hear it over the throbbing in his temples. He rubbed briskly in the spot it hurt, but it didn't help at all. With head thud, lancing pain shot through the back of his eyes. The world spun out of focus and Harry could hardly hear the worried voices above him. His scar flashed white hot, making him feel as if his head was being pulled apart.  
  
The only words he could make out from above him sounded much like they came from Hermione,  
  
"I'm going to get Professor Flitwick."  
  
~~~  
  
Oh man. . .a whole chappie of Quidditch. *bashes head on keyboard*  
  
But did anyone notice the unusual shadows?  
  
Flitwick's back next chappie for a brief moment. . .and there'll be a bit of Tom too.  
  
Pairings: You've probably guessed by now that this has some Ron/Hermione. I think Cho's a nice girl, really, but not for Harry.  
  
Laaaaters! 


	14. Sense and No Sense

Disclaimer: [insert witty disclaimer here]  
  
LittleEar BigEar's Sis: Siobhan and Alex rock, undoubtedly.  
  
Katani Petitedra, goldensnitch3, shdurrani, Yana5, melanie, ironic-humour, athenakitty, PORJECTJAY, blip-dragon, Peak of Truimph and Otspock and pug320: Thanks sooo much!  
  
Foodiholic and Hexe605: I am a fond Harry/Ginny shipper but this story won't have that pairing.  
  
Aggiebell: See above. Also, I just LOVE getting long reviews. Yes, do mind the shadows. . .  
  
Rocky235: Pumpkin truck? Never!  
  
Wanderingwolf: Oh of course! The ferret! *grins manically*  
  
Amarilis: The headaches will all become clear this chappie.  
  
Divad relffehs: Some of the things you said were untrue, but I appreciate you took the time to review.  
  
James Prongs Potter: I am willing to reveal in a chapter...but I'll say to you, "not being there does not mean exclusion".  
  
Georgentosser: I hope you like it, then.  
  
Silver Centaur: Here's another great new chappie! And I'm not planning on stopping this story. I'm also getting ideas for Sign of the Lion behind the scenes.  
  
AN: Well it's time for another bash at Flitwick! You gotta love that guy...also, the reason I haven't updated? Sever writer's block. First it was Siobhan, then being banned from fanfic for a story I posted a year ago (ban has lifted!) then Siobhan again! Just so you know, there's a bit of ship this chapter.  
  
And by the way? I can do italics, bold and underline! Sweet.  
  
See? See again? AND AGAIN!  
  
If you'd like to find out how to do it, just send me an email! (guess_who_lives@hotmail.com)  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Fourteen: Sense and no Sense (i.e. no chapter title came to mind)  
  
~~~  
  
Harry watched as two men argued furiously together. He couldn't make out their features, only able to see their outlines against a washed out fire. He didn't know what the argument was about, but was convinced it was something important.  
  
"I need the raven," Snapped the man adorned with a scraggly goatee.  
  
The other countered quickly,  
  
"Wanting is not needing, Salazar."  
  
Harry started in surprise. He squinted against the light and was unimpressed by their appearance. Somehow he had expected Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor to look a little more likeable. Harry felt a searing pain where his lion mark was and held an arm to it. The next second, the fire roared higher and shot to the roof.  
  
Salazar scowled at it,  
  
"You cannot frighten me with your wandless magic."  
  
"I do believe I have."  
  
"No matter how hard you try," Slytherin hissed, "Ravenclaw will always be mine."  
  
The sight swam out of focus with an unpleasant dizzy feeling which reminded Harry of Floo powder. He tumbled head of heels upon landing on a painfully hard surface, thankful that he didn't have to worry about any glasses. He just lay there and tried to balance his spinning thoughts.  
  
The stones beneath him were frigid and there was a dull throbbing in his ears. Harry levered himself up into a sitting position and looked around. The room he was in bore resemblance to the courts of the Ministry of Magic, just on a smaller scale. There was an old witch hunched over on one bench, sobbing. Harry said cautiously,  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
She didn't answer, but threw herself into a fresh wave of tears. Harry got to his feet and walked to her slowly, looking about to make sure the room was empty. The woman continued to sob miserably and didn't notice his presence in the room. Harry was perplexed.  
  
A squawk announced the arrival of a post bird as it flew in through an upper window. The woman grappled at it and tore the letter from its claws. The bird turned to Harry, eyes of yellow burning into him. It was a raven.  
  
Harry wind milled backwards into the waiting dark...  
  
~~~  
  
Harry opened his eyes. Above the sky was a painful blue, shot through with clouds. A large Beater's club appeared over him and seemed to fall in slow motion. For one wild moment, he convinced himself that it was a dream, a dream where he was a Bludger. But a gut feeling told him otherwise. Harry rolled over onto his stomach just as the club thudded into the grass.  
  
"I told you it would wake him!" Siobhan said ecstatically.  
  
Harry heard it whistle past his ear and rolled back onto his back. Framed by the sky was Hermione's worried frown and Ron's immensely freckly face. Soon a number of worried people circled one patch of blue sky left.  
  
Alex and Siobhan giggled together when Harry sat up. They each had a club and were beaming, proud of their method in rousing the Quidditch captain. Harry secreted a glare in their direction and heaved himself up onto his feet. Ron asked neutrally,  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Hermione stepped on his foot. Harry massaged his temples,  
  
"Headache. How long was I under?"  
  
"Ten minutes," Answered a squeaky voice from somewhere near his waist.  
  
Harry's eyes shot down to tiny Professor Flitwick. The diminutive wizard was holding his and Harry's wands, a severe expression on his face. Harry didn't know what good it would do if Flitwick had taken his wand. There was still the wandless magic to look out for. Just to prove that he wasn't powerless, Harry set his eyes on his broom on the ground and silently willed it to rise.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Harry concentrated more intensely, the only thing happening a pounding in his head. He felt his knees buckle and staggered sideways into Ron. Hermione said briskly,  
  
"We'd better take him up to the hospital wing, then."  
  
Harry vaguely heard mutters and managed to discern that the Gryffindor students just out of his peripheral vision were wondering why Hermione hadn't suggested that sooner...  
  
~~~  
  
Harry was aware of someone pushing a steaming cup into his arm and reflexively sculled it. The spinning room came into focus and he had a good idea who the main occupant of this study was – judging by the low ceiling and tiny seats.  
  
"Why?" Harry croaked as soon as he could.  
  
He saw Ron examining the windowsill with interest, then stand up on hearing him speak and slamming his head on the ceiling. Professor Flitwick was beside himself,  
  
"Mr Weasley! Do be careful!"  
  
Ron grimaced, but got no sympathy from Hermione who merely turned the page of a heavy book disinterestedly before putting it aside calmly. Harry waited impatiently, counting the throbs of his head in the silence.  
  
"Professor Flitwick, I think we'd all like an explanation," Hermione said at last.  
  
The minute professor crossed his arms elaborately,  
  
"It is quite simple, Miss Granger. He has exerted his abilities to the point of physical and magical exhaustion. It would not nearly be a problem, had his guardian been on hand."  
  
Ron hit his head, this time on a light, and cursed. Harry set aside his cup and watched as his friend sat down in a matching armchair, barely big enough for Ginny, let alone him.  
  
"You could have helped," Ron suggested hopefully, "Weren't you pretty boy Diggory's guardian?"  
  
Harry winced as he watched Hermione's well aimed book collide with the side of Ron's head. Ron spluttered, indignant,  
  
"What was that for? Since when you could throw?"  
  
Sympathy moved to amusement as Hermione answered, voice dripping with sarcasm,  
  
"Would you like me to kiss it better?"  
  
"If you think that would help," Ron supplied and blew a kiss at her.  
  
Harry cleared his throat nosily,  
  
"Professor, I hate to say it – but I don't know who my guardian is. I don't doubt your sincerity in helping me, but Cedric was your charge. I'm not him."  
  
Hermione had the available space to look impressed while a pink tinge took up most of her neck and face. She snapped her fingers and managed excitedly,  
  
"Professor Lupin!"  
  
Hermione looked at their perplexed expressions for a moment then said rapidly,  
  
"It makes sense! He was a friend of Harry's father and he taught Harry the Patronus."  
  
"I don't think that has anything to do with it," Harry protested, mentally reminding himself to write a letter to Moony.  
  
Professor Flitwick nodded in agreement,  
  
"Many can teach, but only one is able to teach Mr Potter properly. I can only guide you, but my words were only for Mr Diggory. As for now, I will advise you not to use your powers without the aid of a wand until your body has grown accustomed to the power you now carry with you."  
  
Harry's hand went for his pocket, but remembered he no longer carried it with him. Shrugging apologetically, he said nothing. Hermione made an exasperated noise,  
  
"Harry, if you don't carry your wand don't you think it would be unusual if you were suddenly able to trip someone up?"  
  
"Like Cho Chang or Arisa Quintly?" Ron asked plaintively.  
  
"I can tell you really don't like them," Harry deadpanned but had the decency to give in, "Fine, I'll carry my wand with me."  
  
Flitwick looked relieved. He squeaked,  
  
"I think you should check in with Madame Pomphrey so that no one will be suspicious."  
  
Harry was already slouching towards the door and disappeared outside. His footsteps indicated he was going the right direction. Ron, Hermione and Flitwick all let out sighs of relief.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry did not go to the hospital wing, however. As soon as he reached the door, he turned and walked purposefully for the Gryffindor tower. He planned to grab his wand, broom and Invisibility Cloak and escape the confines of the castle. He moved almost soundlessly and passed by Mrs Norris who turned lamp like eyes on him before trotting for her master.  
  
By the time Filch got there, Harry was already at the portrait. He cut across the Fat Lady,  
  
"Nymphit Toddle!"  
  
The painting swung open. He was confronted with Nymphadora Tonks who began screaming at the top of her lungs. Startled, Harry jumped aside, just in time to avoid being squashed by his DADA teacher who was beyond hysterical. Harry was, however, grabbed by the hem of his robes and pulled down.  
  
"Gotcha!" Laughed Tonks.  
  
Harry tried to get his breathing under control. He croaked,  
  
"What were you doing in our tower?"  
  
Tonks sat up, grinning,  
  
"Oh the usual thing – teaching."  
  
"Teaching what?" Harry asked suspiciously.  
  
A flitting expression of embarrassment passed over her face. She helped him to his feet,  
  
"I'm not a liberty to say. Hey, I didn't give you much homework yesterday. Do you want some Butterbeer?"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes,  
  
"But millions of other teachers did. Besides, even teachers can't take students to the Three Broomsticks."  
  
Tonks looked crestfallen. Obviously, someone had omitted to tell her this. Feeling slightly guilty though he'd done nothing wrong, Harry looked around the corridor to make sure no one was in earshot.  
  
"If you'd just let me change," He said casually, "I'm sure we can go to Hogsmeade."  
  
~~~  
  
"This is amazing!"  
  
Harry did not share Tonks' sentiment with the passageway. His wand, lit and bouncing faint light along the ground, came across the steps. Tonks made to jump on them but Harry stopped her,  
  
"Perhaps I'd better go first."  
  
It was not an all together feeling climbing the stairs with Tonks trying to startle him with each step they took. Harry was about to give up on ever escaping her and was wondering why he had brought her along when his head struck the trapdoor. He rattled off a list of words he'd heard Ron use over the holidays.  
  
"Harry James Potter!" Tonks said, aghast, "Your vocabulary is not complete."  
  
She joined in with a much more impressive catalogue. Harry, shaking his head, opened the trap door when she had fallen silent and led her out into the basement of Honeydukes. Tonks looked around cheerfully,  
  
"Just as I remember it! I worked part time down here once."  
  
"I thought they only employed full time," Harry pointed out.  
  
Tonks batted him on the head,  
  
"The other time I was...discussing...work with my colleague."  
  
"Huh."  
  
They crept past the snoozing store owner and walked into the late afternoon light of the village. Harry breathed deeply – he finally had escaped from his friends' concern for his wellbeing. He had been able to spell his scar away, but had made use of some concealing cream found at the bottom of Ron's trunk. He quickly pulled out his wand and tapped his head. Immediately, his hair was a dull brown.  
  
"Come on!" Tonks insisted, pulling him down the road excitedly.  
  
Harry wondered momentarily if he had achieved freedom at all. While he would have been lonely without the random comments Tonk's made, he could have certainly done without the chatter. But then, he didn't have to think about fighting Voldemort or Hermione's overwhelming tirade of support.  
  
Gryffindor heir or not, he was going to enjoy himself without Siobhan or Alex jumping out from behind furniture like they had in the 6th year boys' dormitories.  
  
Harry followed Tonks into the Three Broomsticks.  
  
~~~  
  
AN: Again, terribly sorry about not updating sooner! I'll try to get another one on shortly but no promises. :S Certainly none. 


	15. The Guardian

* * *

Disclaimer: Your Ultimate Answer, Douglas Adams, was wrong. Instead, it is 42 – 41. Well, then, what is the Ultimate Question? It is, actually, who owns Harry Potter? That means only one person does! And is it moi? Non, je suis desolee.  
  
Ok, you all probably hate me by now...especially dear little Siobhan McPherson and dear little Alexandra Chambers.  
  
Ye who haunted me with reviews so that I would update...your German is passable and you really have no life. But thanks for the reviews! lol  
  
AN: You'll not want to miss this chappie! Hehe. Not with a title like "The Guardian" (nothing to do with Simon Baker so go figure!).  
  
I decided, as a treat, to give you all a longer chapter.

* * *

Chapter 15: The Guardian

* * *

Harry spent much of his time training the Gryffindor Quidditch team, avoiding Duelling Club and teaching the DA members. He was surprised to find that both Siobhan McPherson and Alexandra Chambers very good at their spells, though had no skill whatsoever in aiming. This sent many of the DA to the hospital wing as regularly as the girls sent the Quidditch team. The only notable relief was the absence of experimenting on other first years in between classes.  
  
Harry was sick of being watched by Ron and Hermione. It seemed that every sneeze, every cough warranted a problem for his wandless magic. Though he'd never admit that using his wand had taken away his headaches, Harry was relieved to not have to put up with the pounding behind his eyes. It made concentrating on the hassles of life a lot easier.  
  
The approach of the traditional first Quidditch match of the season with Gryffindor vs. Slytherin stirred everyone into frenzy. Although Fred and George were notably absent from the school, their pranks were not and constantly laid their mark on several students who got in the way. Many a Slytherin was found throwing up slugs and many a Gryffindor was sporting black eyes by the Monday before the game.  
  
Harry had other things to worry about.  
  
While he endeavoured to use his wand to placate his friends, his wandless magic had a way of getting out of his control. The first incident went thusly...  
  
Harry Potter quickly chose the best route to the Gryffindor tower, through a few tapestries. The dark, musty passages that lay beyond were becoming something of a bother to the nose. He opted to leave the secret way, then paused at hearing an odd shuffling just behind the nearest exit.  
  
Cautiously, Harry pulled out his wand and aimed it for the drape. The shuffling suddenly stopped. Harry halted. He was not at all ready for the box of chalk that Siobhan lobbed at him from the side. Alex then burst through the drape and went crashing into him, throwing more chalk about.  
  
It began with the itching of the nose and the wrinkled expression Harry adopted to sniff out the dust.  
  
"ACHOO!" Harry exclaimed suddenly.  
  
Siobhan and Alex simultaneously shrieked, waving frantic fingers at him. Harry suspected they liked to make fun of him in this way, ever since they'd somehow landed their hands on the suspicion flying around in his second year. But for once, the expressions on their faces were truly terrified.  
  
"You didn't hit me that hard," Harry assured them, "Just don't do that again."  
  
Alex managed,  
  
"You not there!"  
  
"Gone," Whispered Siobhan.  
  
Harry was confused. It was before curfew, therefore needing no use of the Invisibility Cloak. And he doubted it would have jumped out of his pocket and covered him. He looked down at his torso, to find his chest completely invisible.  
  
"Ah," Harry said intelligently, "Nothing to worry about."  
  
"Where's your wand?" Demanded Alex slyly.  
  
Harry stuck his hands in his pockets, ready to draw the magical stick in defiance. It wasn't there. He coughed nervously, sending dust scurrying away from him. Heeding his friends' warnings, he didn't want to dredge up the strength to conjure a wand. He shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
Siobhan sniffed gleefully,  
  
"Just as we assumed! O fearless leader, let us use your gifts to promote the fun this school needs!"  
  
Harry was getting really worried now. He didn't know whether to laugh or curse. Alex winked at him and bowed apologetically,  
  
"We've been watching you. What's the use of a wand when you don't need one? Surely you must help us with our noble work."  
  
Harry was instantly reminded of the Weasley twins. He closed his eyes and willed the invisibility to wear off. Upon inspection, it looked to have worked. He really didn't trust the pair of them enough to explain the entire story.  
  
"You can't tell anyone," He warned, "Wandless magic is my own little secret."  
  
"What's our silence worth to you?" Siobhan had a nasty little glint in her eyes.  
  
Harry did not want to admit to Ron later that he'd been blackmailed by two first years, so simply said they'd asked for his help with pranks and such, putting the request down to his intelligence. Ron had laughed himself silly. Hermione obviously didn't believe him, but he'd deceived her enough.  
  
Harry didn't feel particularly like owning up to playing a part in the latest prank at Hogwarts – it was too shameful to think about. He sincerely hoped who ever used the prefect bathroom did notice the malfunctioning taps...they wouldn't take kindly to a mud bath.

* * *

"Allow me to introduce you to your new commentator!" Announced Dean Thomas, sporting West Ham united colours and a magical microphone, "ME!"  
  
There was a collective groan from more than three quarters of the school. Seated in the Gryffindor stands, Seamus Finnigan, if possible, went even paler. Neville hurried to fan the ever blowing breeze onto his face. Hermione looked over her scarlet and gold scarf with concern,  
  
"I thought you'd be pleased to see your cousin play, Seamus."  
  
"You don't know her like I do," Seamus whispered in a deathly quiet voice.  
  
"Dean didn't say anything about commentating!" Neville piped up, "I knew he'd done some stints for his local football club, though."  
  
"Quidditch isn't football," Hermione thought to remind everyone tartly.  
  
"I'm sure Dean knows that. He's smarter than he looks," Defended Seamus.  
  
Hermione looked doubtful. She made a distinct noise in her throat. Seamus looked up at where Dean was commentating from and the sight of his friend toting football regalia made agreement scrawl across his face. He excused himself anxiously,  
  
"I'm just going to give him moral support, yeah?"  
  
Seamus hurried away.

* * *

Katie Bell spent her time assuring Harry that the planned attack manoeuvres were brilliant and worthy of Oliver Wood. Siobhan and Alex had cornered Ron and were jubilantly telling him that chances were they'd be hitting him with the clubs and not the Bludgers. Rorianna was quietly consulting with Ginny, both shooting reproving looks at Ron's assailants.  
  
"It's time," Harry said hoarsely, glancing at his watch.  
  
Ginny tried to be positive,  
  
"Come on, Harry! It's only Slytherin. Our Beaters are more than a match for Crabbe and Goyle."  
  
Harry doubtfully considered this. Alex and Siobhan had very slight frames in comparison to the gorilla cronies of Malfoy's. But the devious smirks on the two girls' faces somewhat heartened him. McGonagall was right – they really did have brains.

* * *

"And here comes the Gryffindor team! Let's hope today's game will prove to be generous on the new additions! We've got Captain Potter, Bell, Sigal, McPherson, Chambers, Weasley aaaaaaaaaaaaand another Weasley! Do they grow on trees or what?"  
  
Dean Thomas managed to look thoughtful, though Seamus had adopted a murderous, mirthless grin. Siobhan's cousin had reached the would-be commentator and presented himself as a reminder of the sensibility that should be maintained.  
  
"Ahem. And now the Slytherins, who've been on a running losing streak since the arrival of Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter! The serpentine mob includes Captain Warrington, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Bletchley, Pucey and, um, who is that again – Zabini! Looks like a Russian, that one...No, I didn't mean that Professor, don't be silly."  
  
Harry listened to this verbal tirade smilingly as he swooped around the pitch and coming to a rest on the ground opposite the Warrington. They shook hands, and Harry imagined it was just as hard as when Angelina had shook hands with the previous captain. He hardly listened to Madam Hooch telling them to play nicely, just stared hard at the Slytherin captain and squeezed as hard as humanly possible – which, for the Gryffindor heir, is quite hard.  
  
"I'm gonna crush you," Muttered Warrington dangerously.  
  
Harry released the other boy's hand and mounted his broom. Beside him, he heard Alex and Siobhan squabbling over what to do with Alex's glasses. Ron snapped at them, but refrained from harming them as he hurtled up to the hoops as the balls were unleashed.  
  
The Snitch vanished immediately. Siobhan was seen tearing off after a Bludger, screaming blue murder while Alex seemed to have trouble distinguishing bat from broom while losing grip on her glasses. Ron was mouthing wordlessly from his position. Harry shot off to Alex and set the club into her right hand firmly. He applied a quick, wandless sticking charm to the glasses and shoved them up her nose.  
  
"Thanks!" Alex shouted and sped off to find a Bludger.  
  
"I say!" Exclaimed Dean in amazement, "What's McPherson doing?"  
  
Harry dreaded looking, but he did so anyway. He stared in disbelief as Siobhan rammed into Alex, stole her friend's club, and swooped off to the Bludgers. Beaming happily, she swung the clubs around and began using them on the balls like a musician to his drums.  
  
"That's me cousin!" Hollered Seamus proudly, family differences aside.  
  
Harry blinked slowly to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He glanced at Ron, who barely managed to stop the Quaffle whizzing past him. Ron looked extremely impressed as he hurled the Quaffle at Rorianna.  
  
Draco Malfoy swooped in between and "accidentally" batted the ball with the tail of his broom. It went spiralling off into the crowd.  
  
Dean sounded angry,  
  
"Get out of the way, you stinking ferret! No, Professor, I didn't use any profanity! Pucey catches it and ducks it up to Bletchley who takes a shot – and misses! Nice save, Ron. Pucey intercepts Weasley's pass to, uh, Weasley, and...no, no. That's not right. The score now stands at 10-0 in favour of Slytherin."  
  
The Slytherin end erupted in cheers as a Bludger escaped Siobhan and smacked into Ron, sending the Keeper careering backwards, unable to save the goal. If not for Alex who was skirting behind the hoops, hitting the Bludger off to Siobhan, Ron would have fallen off his broom.  
  
Harry heard her say to Ron,  
  
"Now you owe me one!"  
  
A golden glint caught Harry's eye and he shot towards it. A moment later, Malfoy slammed into him and tried to grab onto the scarlet Quidditch robes.  
  
"Don't try it, Malfoy!" Harry hissed and swerved into the blonde boy so hard that both brooms rattled under the strain.  
  
Malfoy leered at him, leant over and caught Harry around the throat. He let go extremely quickly, zooming off while Harry choked for breath. Dean Thomas was shouting,  
  
"Oi! That's a foul, Madam Hooch! Give him a red card, SEND HIM OFF!"  
  
Down in the stands, Seamus poked and reminded him,  
  
"This isn't football, Dean!"  
  
"So, sorry Potter," Malfoy sneered while Madam Hooch gave a short blast on her whistle, "You must have gotten in my way."  
  
"Penalty to Gryffindor!" Crowed Dean triumphantly, "Cheating to win, eh? You'd get your hands lopped off in some countries!! Ginny Weasley takes it – and – Zabini misses! Ten points to the Lions! I mean, Gryffindor!"  
  
Rorianna whizzed past Harry, half colliding with Katie and Ginny, cheering happily. Harry scanned the sky carefully, choosing to hover more above the game. He saw Malfoy watching his movements carefully, but staying a good distance away. Within minutes, Katie had scored Gryffindor's second goal and had to duck a savage club swing by Crabbe.  
  
"A human head is not a Bludger!!!!" Roared Dean heatedly.  
  
But Madam Hooch was looking the other direction at Siobhan McPherson who'd swung her club backwards into Malfoy's face while attempting to hit the Bludger in front of her. She sobbed,  
  
"I didn't see him, honest! I always swing it back before I smash it forwards! I'm so sorry Malfoy, I didn't mean to hurt you!"  
  
Madam Hooch looked swayed.  
  
"Toss up! Toss up!" Chanted Dean, "Come on, just toss up the Quaffle!"  
  
A toss up was called, extracting boos from the Slytherins. Dean sounded amazed,  
  
"And we're making Hogwarts history today! A toss up hasn't been called in a Quidditch match on this pitch since 1745!"  
  
Siobhan made sure to clip Malfoy as she zoomed past.  
  
"Bell hits the ball to Rorianna Sigal who – misses?! Warrington snatches the footy ball – I mean, Quaffle – and CATCH IT RON!"  
  
Ron caught the ball expertly and shouted at Harry,  
  
"Just hurry up and catch the bloody thing!"  
  
Harry sighted the Snitch flitting near Alex, who was about to whack a Bludger. She winked up at Harry and, as she hit the jet black projectile, the bat connected with the Snitch as well, sending it spiralling upwards.  
  
"How did that get there?!" Demanded Dean, "Uh, Malfoy and Potter chase after the Snitch. OUCH! Sigal gets thundered by Goyle's Bludger!"  
  
Harry once again had to brace himself against Malfoy slamming into him. Harry found himself saying tauntingly,  
  
"Is that the best you've got, Malfoy?"  
  
He focused hard on Malfoy's broom. He remembered Hagrid saying that it was mighty hard to tamper with someone's broom, but obviously all who had tried were not heirs of the founders. Draco Malfoy's broom pelted backwards, leaving Harry free to reach out his arm and catch the Snitch.  
  
"Malfoy experiences steering difficulties!" Dean said cheerfully, "And Harry Potter catches the Snitch, winning 150 points for Gryffindor! An impressive win!!"  
  
Harry rolled his broom past Malfoy and smiled innocently. The Slytherin Seeker glared at him and growled,  
  
"I don't know how you did it, Potter, but I know you fouled my broom."  
  
"You can't prove that, ferret boy," Harry told him lightly and sped away into the victorious huddle that was his team.

* * *

"Congratulations!" Hermione caught up with the team as it trudged into the change rooms, victory laps complete. She threw her arms around Ron, turned vaguely pink and muttered something about a Charms assignment.  
  
Ron's ears had burnt red and he busied himself with getting out of his Quidditch robes. He avoided catching anyone's eyes. Siobhan nearly bowled him over while she danced around the room.  
  
"It's a pity they can fix Malfoy's nose so easy," Alex said sadly, "That's why she's upset."  
  
Ron muttered darkly from his corner,  
  
"I'd hate to see her really happy."  
  
Suddenly, Katie Bell looked rather downcast. When questioned, she replied morosely,  
  
"We don't have Fred or George to start a party."  
  
"Leave that to me," Harry told her in a low voice so that Ron and Hermione wouldn't hear.

* * *

"Harry Potter!"  
  
Harry froze guiltily in the act of conjuring food for the growing party. He knew he should have used his wand, but using wandless magic was so much quicker. Besides, he couldn't find his wand. He turned around to see Dobby watching him nervously.  
  
"Um, hi Dobby," Harry smiled at the house-elf, "Did you hear? Gryffindor won the Quidditch today."  
  
Dobby peeked at him with alarm,  
  
"Harry Potter, sir, Professor Flitwick thought Harry Potter might be needing this."  
  
Out from Dobby's tea cosy came Harry's wand, which the house-elf handed over tremblingly. Harry felt his mouth go dry. He cleared his throat, fibbing quickly,  
  
"Thanks, Dobby. Don't tell anyone but I've just got back from Hogsmeade."  
  
"Dobby saws not that, sir."  
  
"Alright," Harry said, stalling for time, "You're not going to tell anyone you saw me doing magic without a wand are you? It's a secret."  
  
Dobby's tennis ball sized eyes, if possible, widened. He asked in a squeak,  
  
"Albus Dumbledore know Harry Potter's secret?"  
  
"Not exactly and you can't tell Professor Dumbledore," Harry pressed.  
  
He could almost hear Hermione scolding him. Harry knew he should trust the Headmaster and had had enough of insistence from Hermione as well as Professor Flitwick. Dobby looked confused and was clearly not going to keep to himself. Harry knew that house-elves had their own brand of magic that wizards couldn't tamper with easily, but he had to try.  
  
Rather than say the telltale "Obliviate", Harry focused his power mentally on Dobby. Casting aside memories of Gilderoy Lockhart's mishaps, the heir of Gryffindor performed a simple memory charm and sent the dazed house-elf on his way.  
  
"That was easy," Harry muttered.  
  
Suddenly, a flash of heat ran up his skull and blinded him. Promptly, every candle and roaring hearth in the castle winked out. Harry felt the lion mark on his arm burn until he felt the whole limb was going to fall off. The world swam away from his vision...

* * *

"_Spare no one."  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
The screams from inside the expansive buildings began, driving wave after wave of pain into Harry's head. He stood, unseen and unable to help, at the backs of cloaked wizards and witches – Death Eaters. Harry had never seen this place before, but he knew if he wasn't filled with dread, it would have been a peaceful place.  
  
Chiselled into the stone entrance of the main building were the words "Salem Witches' Institute". Harry turned on his opposite, the wizard so feared not many said his name.  
  
Voldemort was laughing to the point of sounding mad. Harry clenched his fists and wished more than anything he could wrap his hands around the dark wizard's neck. He threw all his wandless magic and hate at the killer of his parents.  
  
So used to having no resistance to his powers, Harry was startled to see them batted away almost effortlessly. Unexpectedly, narrow red eyes locked with his. Harry felt his heart clench for a second and staggered backwards. But it didn't seem that Voldemort could see him.  
  
"So at last you come," Hissed You-Know-Who, "Godric."_

* * *

"Harry, mate, wake up!" Came Ron's voice from somewhere above the darkness.  
  
Harry opened his eyes to see Ron and Hermione crouched over him. He sat up with a groan, surprised to find himself flattened on the floor. Harry looked straight at them shamelessly, making a point of the wand that rested barely a metre from him.  
  
"You should go to Dumbledore!" Hermione told him, close to tears, "The teachers are all worried that there's someone in the castle that wants to create a panic. If you just told Dumbledore you wouldn't have these problems."  
  
Harry rubbed his stinging scar,  
  
"I'll tell him now, if you're so worried. I just saw an attack that Voldemort was leading. He's expecting me."  
  
"Who, Dumbledore?" Ron chanced.  
  
Harry stared distantly out the window,  
  
"Voldemort knows the heir of Gryffindor exists."  
  
"I hope you didn't tell him who you were!" Hermione snapped.  
  
"No, I'm don't daft," Harry sighed wearily, "I doubt Voldemort will link me to Gryffindor's heir."  
  
Hermione scowled at him,  
  
"You shouldn't take Voldemort for a fool, Harry," She turned to Ron who was in the midst of a flinching fit, "For goodness sakes, Ron, it's just a name."  
  
Harry got up, foreseeing an argument,  
  
"If it will make you feel better, I'll go to Dumbledore. Take the food down, though. We can't have a party without it."  
  
He pretended to be looking for his jumper while Ron managed to cajole Hermione into taking the food down into the Common Room. Their bickering over using Voldemort's bounced up the staircase in whispers. Harry waited a moment, then grabbed his broom.  
  
He kicked a window open and shot out into the darkening sky. He had no wish to go to Dumbledore – all he needed was to clear his head. The Headmaster would know about the attack anyway. Harry could already feel his headache subsiding. Fresh air, that's all it was.  
  
The winter season brought a chill to the early dusk, but Harry ignored it. He found himself circling the Quidditch pitch so set his Firebolt down into the middle of it, empty stands leering at him.  
  
He really needed to talk to someone who wasn't insisting on getting help. The only person living would be Remus Lupin, but Harry had his doubts. He'd seen Hermione sending a letter by one of the school owls to their old professor, but hadn't bothered to stop her. If Moony had any advice, he hadn't replied for five whole days. With each new day Hermione grew more uneasy and even Ron was beginning to become anxious.  
  
"Why won't they leave me alone?" Harry demanded out loud to the silent pitch.  
  
Long shadows had spread across the ground, making every noise seem deafening. That was why, when Harry heard the footsteps, he looked up at the hauntingly cheerless stands. He called,  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
The footsteps paused. Harry walked steadily towards where he'd last heard them on the wooden spectator seats, summoning a light globe in one hand. The light barely created more than a two metre circle once Harry entered the dark woodwork. A dull thud came from Harry's left and he spun that direction.  
  
The lion mark on his arm began to throb dully. Harry gritted his teeth, awaiting the usual accompanying headache, but it didn't come. He forced his voice to remain steady,  
  
"Show yourself."  
  
"No," Said a gruff voice from just beyond the light, "I've got a wand trained on you, so no funny business. Turn around and walk the other way."  
  
Harry felt calm as he responded,  
  
"A dismal threat. Now, who are you?"  
  
There was silence for a moment, then the voice sounded almost apologetically,  
  
"I ought to have recognised you earlier, Harry."  
  
Harry didn't know whether to call for help or stay put. It could be likely this stranger was a threat to him, but his instincts told him otherwise. He tried tentatively,  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"Because," The man stepped from the shadows, "I got your letter."  
  
It was Sirius Black.

* * *

Author's Note: The real plot is about to begin. Sorry for the lack of it in the past few chapters.

And again my sincerest apologies about this overdue update.


	16. Food Needed

Disclaimer: Peesh. Next chapter I think I'll forget this part entirely. I don't own Harry Potter!

I didn't get the third movie on DVD until it had dropped 5 bucks in price (why? Because it was crap! Well, more the ending was crap.)

I know a lot of you are angry with me. I can sense it. I'm very sorry! Really! I didn't forget this story for one minute! How could I, with many of you taking the time to constantly review anonymously "update update update!"

(Yes, I know that was you, Siobhan.)

The people you owe this update to:

King Arthur

Daniel Jackson

Obi-Wan Kenobi

And

Queerditch Marsh who emailed me very kindly! This chapter is dedicated to them! A note to you all: see where emailing gets you?

Not that I ever got an email from Stargate Command asking me to work at Cheyenne Mountain, but whatever.

Sorry, bad chapter name.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Food Needed

* * *

The arm carrying the ball of light wavered. Harry felt a lump form in his throat as his mind screamed impossibilities at him. Anger swept up into his mouth like bile, enabling him to speak. 

"A nice trick," The heir of Gryffindor hissed venomously, "Tell your master, if I do decide to let you live, that his petty attempts at hitting my weaknesses are laughable."

Harry wasn't even worried that this possible Death Eater had seen him perform wandless magic. It didn't matter. Let the old man fret, Harry decided with feeling. He surveyed the man in front of him indifferently. It was a very good disguise, he reflected with growing unease. Heir though he was, he would have trouble conjuring something of that calibre.

Sirius – if indeed this man was he – appeared as tired and worn as Harry had first met him, minus the skeletal face. The look alike lowered his wand, concern etched onto his features, commenting softly,

"Much as I'm relieved you're cautious, proving myself to you – again – does hurt."

The man shifted into a looming canine, black as midnight and so remarkably like Professor Trelawney's beloved Grim. The change was brief before a human once again resumed to stand in the pool of light supplied by Harry's outstretched hand.

"Even Malfoy knows my godfather can do that," Harry rebutted, though he couldn't stop his heart racing in hope. Had he mistaken the death of Sirius Black? Had he been living a nightmare?

Harry wondered if he'd been asleep all this time.

The man with dark features half-smiled,

"But what that git doesn't know is that you called me Snuffles. He doesn't want monsters you have to pass the summer holidays with. I hope you didn't lose Quidditch to him," He added worriedly.

Harry fought the urge to smile back. He looked the man straight in the eye,

"Tell me, was James Potter a git at some stage?"

"Naturally," Came the answer, "Of course, you heard me tell you through a fireplace, didn't you?"

This was enough for Harry, though he quickly cast a truth spell to evaluate the man's words. Harry doused the light and moved forward to hug Sirius fiercely. His eyes burnt with tears as he muttered,

"How did you do it, Sirius?"

"Do what?" Sirius Black asked, confused.

The ill at ease feeling swamped Harry again. He stepped back, frowning,

"I saw you die. I wasn't the only one. Bellatrix shot you with a curse and you disappeared into the veil."

"Back up a minute!" Exclaimed Sirius, startled, "Firstly, I would never let that conniving woman hit me and secondly, I think I would remember something like – _dying_!"

Harry wondered if the world itself was stark raving mad. Through the darkness, he watched the shadow that could only be his godfather. Slowly, Harry requested,

"What do you last remember then?"

Sirius shifted uneasily,

"Before I came here, it becomes difficult to sort through. I kicked Kreacher," A small, wicked snarl appeared on his face for a moment, "Then hit the sack for the night. I didn't wake up in the dear old family mansion, however. I was trapped in a cave."

This all sounded ridiculous to Harry, who decided to patiently wait the explanation out. Sirius continued, his voice containing the frown that would have covered his features,

"I searched the cave for a way out, but all I found was my old wand from school and some food. I don't know how many days passed while I was there. I was listless until your letter appeared beside me."

"Hedwig returned that letter," Harry objected.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders,

"I still got it. You did well with your OWLs. And, no, I haven't forgotten your birthday. I was misplaced for a while."

Harry snorted,

"How about dead?"

"I no more understand this than you do, Harry," Sirius reminded him, "You could at least take me up to Dumbledore. If I am a Death Eater, I'm sure he'll let you blast me in the chest."

Uncomfortably, Harry remembered just that happening to his godfather at the hand of Bellatrix. He tried to push this out of his mind as he walked beside a very much alive Sirius Black up to the castle. There was an awkward silence between them. At last, Sirius commented,

"Well you weren't just being crazy in your letter. You can actually do wandless magic. I'm sure Dumbledore is pleased."

Harry shook his head,

"I didn't tell him. Only Flitwick knows."

"Why Flitwick?" Sirius demanded, "That man has a brain the size of a pea. Although he always managed to diffuse my pranks in his class..."

They reached the front doors of Hogwarts. Harry stopped suddenly. He turned to Sirius,

"If you really are here, then you won't disappear when we step inside, right?"

"Nothing could drag me away," Assured his godfather.

Harry watched him slide through the doors. He said quietly,

"A veil could."

He followed quickly. He could barely concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Sirius alive! Who could believe it? Was it just a trick of Voldemort's? If so, the dark wizard would have no trouble figuring out who the heir of Gryffindor was. Harry cleared his throat. He felt he had to say something, to keep this illusion real.

"Why did you come here first and not headquarters?" He asked tentatively.

Sirius frowned for a moment and turned back,

"I don't know. I just had to make sure you were safe."

They reached the gargoyle protecting the headmaster's office. Harry didn't waste any breath. He merely waved his hand and the statue shifted sideways. Sirius raised his eyebrows,

"And you still haven't told Dumbledore?"

"He's never helped me before," Harry said resolutely, "He's not about to start now."

Sirius was surprised by the venom in his godson's voice. Together, they stepped on the moving stairs. When they came to the top, Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"I'm still here," Sirius assured.

Harry twisted the doorknob and kicked the door open. He was startled to find Flitwick talking with the headmaster in grave tones. Both Professors looked up. Dumbledore stood up immediately, his astonishment evident. Harry took some pleasure in this. He commented,

"It looks like I won't be needing that flying motorcycle, huh? And don't worry, I don't think he's a Death Eater. I cast a truth spell."

"You don't have your wand on you," Dumbledore noted quietly, an odd look in his eyes.

Harry glared at Flitwick,

"You didn't tell him, did you? Oh for crying out loud, let's tell everyone – Harry Potter is the heir of Gryffindor! Guess that's something else we'll have to explain to Sirius."

He'd much prefer to have told the headmaster himself, but Harry knew he might never have got round to it. He looked sideways at his godfather, expecting a stunned reaction. Sirius looked thoughtful, but quickly became puzzled.

"I think we have a lot to discuss," Dumbledore said.

* * *

Sirius took the news of his death rather well, actually. Dumbledore was at a loss of any explanation of this resurrection. The headmaster resolved to get to the bottom of the matter, coming close to admitting that he may have been wrong about the veil's properties. It wouldn't be too hard to obtain information, now that Amelia Bones was now in charge of the Ministry of Magic.

"I will speak to the Minister about conducting tests on the veil," Dumbledore declared, "Now to other business. Harry, you should have come to me sooner about your wandless magic."

Harry scowled,

"I was handling it well enough of my own. Professor Flitwick just _had_ to notice. Besides, I know he never told you about Cedric being the Hufflepuff heir."

Dumbledore shot a severe look at the Charms professor who squeaked awkwardly. The Headmaster said calmly,

"Consider me informed. I would have made sure of Cedric Diggory's security."

"You can't stop a prophecy from happening," Sirius pointed out, "So what are you planning to do with Harry's powers?"

Harry looked at his godfather. Sirius gave him a small wink, showing that he was definitely on Harry's side in the matter. Flitwick answered this in his high voice,

"Harry needs to defeat You-Know-Who. He must be trained."

"Excuse me," Harry interjected, "But I don't think either of you know how wandless magic works. You said it yourself, Professor Flitwick, you're just the Hufflepuff guardian. You can't train me."

Flitwick looked a little offended,

"I never knew anything about empathy before I was drawn to Mr Diggory. For many weeks, I was blindly trying to ascertain what was happening to both Mr Diggory and myself."

Dumbledore waited for the indignant Charms professor to wind down before saying,

"Until we can find your guardian, Harry, I think it best for Professor Flitwick to assist you."

Harry didn't argue the matter any further. He glanced at his watch, wondering if Gryffindor had gone to bed yet. He might be able to sneak a message to Ron or Hermione. Or perhaps Dumbledore would let him stay with Sirius for a bit. Surely Sirius wouldn't be sent back to 12 Grimmauld Place immediately! The Headmaster confirmed his fears by turning to Sirius,

"You should return to headquarters. It is still safer for you there."

"Like hell I'll return!" Exclaimed Sirius, "I'm not going to waste my life rotting in some prison."

Dumbledore's frown lines deepened,

"You are no longer in Azkaban."

Sirius stood up, commenting resentfully,

"Could have fooled me. At least let me have some time with my godson! Merlin, I just came back from the grave."

The Headmaster looked at his own watch, which was golden and had planets circling the face instead of numbers. It was clearly against his better judgement but one look at the almost pleading face of Harry seemed to shake him.

"You have fifteen minutes," Dumbledore told them and left the office with Flitwick.

As soon as both professors were gone, Sirius sighed in exasperation,

"I can't go back to hiding out while the big stuff is happening. James would want me to stay with you, I know it."

"I'm sure Dumbledore will let me visit you for Christmas like last year," Harry consoled.

Sirius gave a shot barking laugh,

"Christmas! I forgot about Christmas. I don't think I have much time for Christmas shopping this year. And I've still got to get you a birthday present."

"I'd rather be stuck with you at headquarters," Harry said morosely, "Now that Dumbledore knows about my wandless magic, I'll have heaps of extra-curricular activities. I was handling it fine by myself."

Sirius smiled,

"I doubt Ron and Hermione thought that. You did tell them, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah. Ron kept asking me to jinx the Slytherin team's brooms."

"Did you?" Sirius asked excitedly.

Harry paused for a moment. He had missed Sirius' love of pranks on the opposing house. Harry returned the smile,

"Only Malfoy's in today's game. We won. Again."

"Good," Sirius beamed, then grew solemn, "How are you coping with the powers?"

Harry shrugged,

"I get headaches sometimes. I could probably take on Voldemort and then some. But I don't think Dumbledore would let me leave the castle, let alone go anywhere near Voldemort. How's this for overlap – there are two prophecies about me fighting him."

Harry paused and looked at his godfather. Sirius was the only one he'd ever talk to honestly about this. And Dumbledore was probably going to shut him up again, forbidding letters. Sirius stood up and paced for a moment, running a hand through his already mussed hair.

"It's not your fault," Sirius said firmly.

Harry looked away, distracting himself briefly on Fawkes' perch. He snorted,

"My genes aren't my fault, I know that."

"Good," Sirius glanced around the office, "I think our time is just about up. I'm not going to tell you to be careful, Harry. You don't need to be told."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Ron asked again, incredulous.

Harry couldn't keep the grin off his face. He nodded mutely. Ron stared at him for a moment, still waiting for the joke to fall. Finally, he rubbed his hands together,

"Excellent. He did promise to teach me some pranks."

Harry turned to Hermione, expecting her to just be exiting the throes of scepticism as well. Instead, she looked thoughtful. Ron rounded on her, demanding,

"Aren't you at all happy, huh?"

"I _am_ happy," Hermione corrected in a steely voice, "But it is a very strange miracle."

"So what?" Ron snapped.

Sensing the argument about to reach a heightened level, Harry beat a hasty retreat. He had much more pressing things to deal with than Ron and Hermione's rifts. He was late for an after schooltraining sessionwith Flitwick anyway.

* * *

As Christmas drew nearer, the usual colourful decorations adorned the castle. The usual holiday cheer, however, had plummeted with the temperature. No amount of colours nor heat could lift the attitudes of any of the students.

Harry was almost relieved to be called into the Headmaster's office during dinner one evening. Siobhan and Alex had taken it upon themselves to produce some mayhem with ill made firecrackers. Harry considered it a lucky escape from both the repressing silence of the Great Hall and the troublesome duo's attempt at relieving it.

"You wanted to see me, Professors?" Harry asked, entering the office.

Since Dumbledore had discovered Harry's powers, the headmaster and Flitwick had been convening regularly. Harry sat down without invitation. Dumbledore informed him,

"I have heard from certain sources that Voldemort is taking great pains in finding the identity of the Ravenclaw heir."

"Really," Harry deadpanned.

Since he'd had several visions where Salazar or Voldemort seemed to need to the Ravenclaw heir, Harry was not really surprised. He began to suspect that he himself needed to find the other heir. Mindful of this, he had taken to carrying to prophecy book around with him. He figured he already knew what Dumbledore had to say.

Flitwick added in his squeak,

"Are you aware of the heir prophecy?"

Harry mutely opened the book on his lap and flipped to the page. Dumbledore studied him for a moment, then recited,

"_The eagle will fly in great peril_. It is my belief that Voldemort wishes to do away with the Ravenclaw heir because he sees it as another threat next to the heir of Godric Gryffindor."

"I don't think he wants the heir dead," Harry interjected in disagreement.

Flitwick asked, frowning,

"What makes you say that, Mr Potter?"

"It's obvious isn't it?" Harry closed the old book with a snap, turning to Dumbledore, "Sir, Professor Trelawney predicted that I would have to kill or be killed. From my…dreams, I've seen that Gryffindor and Slytherin couldn't kill each other."

"Then the only way to kill the other was through the Ravenclaw heir," Dumbledore finished, the twinkle is his eye dimmed with concern.

Harry sighed loudly,

"Not only do I have to find this heir, I have to convert them. Great."

"You leave the finding to me, Harry," Dumbledore told him sternly, "In the meantime, I want you to continue your studies with Professor Flitwick."

* * *

Harry was fed up with Flitwick trying to teach him. He wrote daily to Sirius (it was a great comfort to know for sure that the letters _were_ being read) about how he didn't think the short professor was anywhere near qualified to teach wandless magic.

_I probably know more than him_, Harry wrote once.

There was some convincing to be done before Harry could leave the castle for the holidays. He went about this very carefully by persuading Ron to take only Hermione to the Burrow for Christmas. By the redness of Ron's ears, Harry could tell that was probably the easiest part. Ron was still adamantly proclaiming,

"Purely platonic!"

Harry didn't believe him. With his two friends going away for the holidays, Harry asked that he at least be stuck in the same place as his godfather. He argued,

"A week ago, I thought he was _dead_."

"I was going to suggest you spend your holidays at Grimmauld Place anyway," Dumbledore assured.

* * *

Harry managed to retain some dignity as he hurtled out of the fireplace. A quick wandless spell rid his face and hair of soot just in time. Moments later, Sirius and Remus entered. Harry grinned at them,

"Which room am I in? If it's up the stairs, I'm not carrying my trunk."

"You heard him," Sirius nudged Remus.

The former Hogwarts professor nudged him back,

"I'm sure Harry can move it upstairs by himself with his powers."

"Merlin, did Dumbledore tell everyone?" Harry demanded.

The two men exchanged glances. Remus coughed awkwardly,

"Just the Order."

Harry sighed and waved a hand at his trunk. It disappeared with a faint pop. He commented dryly,

"I hope that landed in the right place. Is there anything in the kitchen?"

He turned on his heel and walked away. Sirius sighed,

"He's a lot like James, Moony."

"Hm," Remus agreed, "When he's angry, he goes straight to the food."

After a short silence, Sirius suggested,

"We should see if he's alright."

Remus Lupin snorted. He guided his school friend away from the door to the kitchen,

"He'll calm down once he sees that huge chocolate block on the table."

"I wonder if there'll be leftovers for Snuffles."

"I highly doubt it, _Snuffles_."

"Here's a thought. Why didn't you look shocked when you saw me alive?"

"You're a Grim. You naturally cheated death through school."

"If you count death as being punished unfairly for pranks, then I'm never going to die."

* * *

And so the chapter comes to an end! Woohoo!

I couldn't help but have a short banter between two of my fav characters ever. Next chapter I have planned! Wow! A plan! (does happy dance). Teaser for you – next chapter is called _Mysteries of Yuletide_. I may or may not have got inspiration from the title of a piece of gothic literature.

I'm so sorry about not updating. I REALLY HOPE TO HAVE THIS FINISHED BY JULY! Why? Coz _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_ comes out, that's why!

Don't kill me.

PS: On April 28th I am taking a trip to the cinema wearing a dressing gown and waving a towel. Why? Coz _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy _comes out, that's why! (29th for most of you, I imagine)


	17. Mysteries of Yuletide

AN: Hmm, it's about time I got off my butt and fulfilled the prophecy – ah, the fic. I'm very sorry…this was meant to span two fics, but I'll keep it to one in an attempt to finish it. There will be no mentions of horocruxes...I did think about tying in some of the last two books...eh, I like my idea still anyway. Sorry if it's a bit short, but I'm setting the stage...

* * *

Yet another night sulking by a fireplace and nursing a Butterbeer, stone cold from neglect, and Harry wasn't too pleased, naturally. He supposed he should have been thankful that this Christmas at Grimmauld place was pottering along at its own gentle pace, without any dangerous interruptions from snakes or people skulking about where they shouldn't be. Absently prodding a chess piece from the game that Sirius had abandoned in favour of an Order meeting, he wondered if there were more whispers about his sudden abilities. Nobody seemed to bat much of an eye at a certain resurrection, but the buzz seemed to be focused on which prophecy could be trusted.

A growl of frustration escaped him. They could spend days talking without doing anything while it felt like he was sinking in the mud, with no one bothering to throw him a rope. He was so _bored_ and each minute that his scar failed to burn was another minute that Voldemort could be making steps to discover the heir of Ravenclaw.

"Quick! Move me before he gets back!" suggested Harry's remaining bishop.

Harry ignored the chess board and set aside his drink, rolling back his sleeve to examine the mark. By now, everyone had to know it wasn't just his imagination. If Snape so much as mentioned attention seeking, the slimy git would end up hanging upside down for a few hours to mellow him out. He had it coming, especially now that the Potions master probably knew about his wandless magic.

Inwardly cursing at the thought of how easy it would be for Snape to mention something to Voldemort, Harry threw aside the chess board, much to the high pitched protests that were hurled at him from beside the fireplace. Remembering that this could pass for some sort of animal cruelty, owing to the chess pieces' sentient behaviour, he knelt to scoop up the pieces. His stomach jumped into his throat momentarily as he realised someone was regarding him from the fireplace.

"Don't do that, Hermione!" he snapped, "I could have hurt you."

"Don't be silly. You could only hurt me with a spell if you used Floo powder."

Harry thought about this for a moment, then shrugged noncommittally. After searching his face for any more resistance, Hermione spoke quickly, "Can you come to the Burrow? I've discovered something."

"I can't use the Floo network to transport from here without the protection spells going nuts," he pointed out.

"Apparate, Harry! Are you the heir of Gyffindor or not?"

"That remains to be seen."

"What?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing…"

It was a niggling thought that had latched onto his already mounting doubts. What if he wasn't the heir of Gryffindor, and really didn't have any power to stop Voldemort? Shouldn't he just leave that to whoever Ravenclaw's heir was and their guardian? When he looked back at the fireplace, Hermione's face had disappeared. Rolling his eyes, Harry followed with the slightest of hesitations to set the chess board to right.

"What was so bloody important…" he began, but pitched forward on his knees as a flash of hot pain rode up the back of his skull.

* * *

Harry blinked his blurry vision away as he came to. For one wild moment, he thought he'd lost his eyesight and was now seeing everything in a film of orange. The muddle came into focus, allowing him to make out the Chudley Cannon banners strewn all over the walls. Forgetting himself for a moment, he patted the air beside Ron's bed for his glasses. Hermione was peering at him from a chair she had drawn up, anxiously nibbling the fleshy pad of her thumb. Balanced on her knees was the lion marked book, opened to a ratty spread of pages smeared with what look suspiciously like fire whisky.

"We didn't have anything else available to us," Hermione explained at his amused expression, "Ron's parents went off to an Order meeting so we thought this the best time to bring it up."

Ron appeared beside her. "Yeah, we figured they weren't letting you put in your two Sickles."

Smoothing out the wrinkled paper, Hermione passed over the book for Harry's inspection, watching earnestly. It took a loud garbled clearing of Ron's throat for her to slip back into the chair. Harry nodded gratefully – he didn't need that sort of distraction right now. He skimmed his eyes over the calligraphy scrawled across the pages, but he didn't get what was so important.

Hermione sniffed in impatience. "Well, isn't it obvious?"

"I told her it wasn't, mate," Ron offered sympathetically.

Two desperately delivered glances at the resident bookworm softened any offence she had taken. Hermione explained gleefully, "Don't you see? It says here that Gryffindor and Slytherin were unable to defeat each other, but on one occasion Salazaar murdered his rival's 'learned mentor', but a few months later the mentor _came back to life_. Sirius is Harry's Guardian!"

"Sirius, 'learned'?" snorted Ron.

"It's just an adjective, Ron!" Hermione snapped, "The contexts of then and now are very different. For all you know, a learned mentor today could be anyone with an affinity for sharing necessary experience and knowledge to someone junior."

Harry's headache returned with a vengeance, greedily slamming against his temples and refusing to budge even when he rubbed his forehead. He found himself wishing that it was his scar hurting instead. Much as he still doubted the book, it made sense. Snatching the book back, he perused the text with a little more attention. Squinting his eyes against the pain scrambling around behind his forehead, he slowly recited, "The Guardian shall provideth power at thine heir's demand…"

Hermione frowned. "Yes, I did think about that. There seems to be the general gist that Gryffindor and Slytherin could never defeat each other by themselves because they were both too powerful. But they never challenged each other with their Guardians – and Guardians can supply a greater power!"

"So if I take Sirius when I go to Voldemort…" Harry trailed off.

"Brilliant," was Ron's assessment, "Wouldn't hurt to give it a go, right?"

But Hermione didn't seem at all swayed by this idea. Snapping the book shut and pressing her fingers along the sides, she spitted Ron with a disapproving glare. Both boys recoiled and exchanged the exasperated looks they always did when their friend scared them. Hermione said sternly, "It's too risky. We only know that the Guardians were never at the battles, but that might mean nothing."

Harry jumped off the bed. "I've got to try it. I don't see how I'm going to find the Ravenclaw heir to do the dirty work for me. And I'll bet Sirius will want to do it."

"Harry!" she exclaimed, scandalised, "You're not thinking rationally. You can't just rush out and expect to wing everything – this is what got Sirius killed in the first place!"

Hands curling into fists, Harry decided he really didn't want to hang around .He waved sarcastically in farewell and disappeared just as she shouted a warning not to be careless. Careless? Wasn't all this waiting around careless enough!? He fumed all the way to his darkened room at headquarters and didn't even bother imagining what was going on downstairs.

* * *

"The gnomes are coming!"

Harry bolted up in bed and immediately cast a wandless light spell, noting with pleasure that his head didn't even twinge in protest. His face broke into a grin upon seeing his godfather, still alive and well, and repeated dubiously, "Gnomes?"

Sirius shrugged. "I had to think of something. It was that or start banging saucepans. Besides, I kind of felt you wanted to talk to me."

This caused Harry to survey his godfather more closely. There were times Sirius understood him better than anyone else – but that could just be the fact that they were both given the short end of the wand when it came to Dumbledore and the old man's plans. After a minutes of considering this, Harry said in a rush, "I think you're the Gryffindor Guardian, because you came back to life. And I need your help, because Hermione thinks you can increase my power…"

Half-expecting Sirius to scoff, he was immensely relived when his godfather agreed, "I can't explain how I came back; I hope I never remember the realms of the dead. The Order have been coming up with a few things but it's a load of balderdash. We need to do something now."

"Exactly," Harry assented, "And right now, they're just sitting around and throwing half-baked bull over cups of tea. I want to at least try, they can't keep us locked up."

Perhaps he was treading on dangerous ground, considering how Sirius could react when backed into a corner. But right now, Harry had no love of being pushed around, by members of the Order or his friends. He said firmly, "I can do this, Sirius, I know I can. Voldemort's planning something big and it's going to happen soon. I just wish I knew what!"

"Well first off I'd say we should get out of this place. We need to get on the trail of the monster. Harry, I know I should tell you to go back to school after the Christmas holidays…"

"Save it. I'm sure you'd agree that taking out Voldemort is a little more important than banishing cushions across a room."

"Especially as said banishing never works," Sirius paused and added thoughtfully, "It never worked for me, anyway."

Harry grinned, but mirthlessly.

* * *

Not even boyish recklessness could dissuade Sirius from insisting that Harry refrain from using his wandless magic as much as possible.

"You'll need your strength," the older man had reasoned, "You can use it to practice."

"Alright, I'll just use my wand."

"No, the Ministry has tracing spells to find out if any underage wizardry is going on. We're better off not drawing attention to ourselves."

Now shifting a rucksack across his shoulder, Harry wished he could light up the hallway as he snuck past the other bedrooms on the landing. One really couldn't be sure of who was staying in the house, so he was playing it safe. His school books lay neatly across the end of his bed, probably already gathering dust. He hadn't bothered with a note of explanation, as Dumbledore would figure it out if he hadn't already. Biting back a curse as he stubbed his toe on the railing of the stairs, Harry patted the pockets of his jeans to make sure his wand was still there. Even though it was useless, it could still repel blasts from Voldemort's wand and, if it came to that, he wouldn't mind being expelled from Hogwarts anyway.

He had made it down to the kitchen when he collided with someone and forced himself not to gasp in shock. Sirius' outline in the gloom was hard to distinguish, but somehow Harry could sense that it was him, similarly adorned in dark Muggle clothing. Keeping his voice to a hiss, Harry asked if they were going to be using Buckbeak.

"Too slow," Sirius whispered back, "We'll take the Flymot."

Harry blinked. "I forgot about asking Remus to teach me how to ride it, but now you're back so it's not mine."

"Shh, you can keep it but I'll drive for now."

A few short minutes later, the few occupants of 12 Grimmauld Place (comprised of those who had crashed for the night and Remus, who seemed to be acting on orders to keep an eye on things) woke in their beds to a loud bang that reverberated through the walls as Sirius and Harry disappeared into the night, leaving only a plume of smoke to indicate any sort of direction they had left in.

* * *

N: Next chapter things do heat up with a battle, a confrontation with Voldie and other things...


End file.
